Tainted Romance: Part II
by Petals Open to the Moon
Summary: Secure in Aro's love, Geneve begins to feel that she might just have found happiness in romance. But when a dark evil is brought to light, her world crumbles about her again, forcing her to hang on to everything she holds dear. *A continuation of Part I*
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 20: Becoming You **

"_All I ever wanted _

_All I ever needed _

_Is here, in my arms." _

_("Enjoy the Silence"; Depeche Mode)_

"Everyone notices, you know," Celeste said one evening. "He's _obsessed_ with you."

I could only smile. It was true that Aro made no secret of his affection for me, and that the past few weeks had been some of the happiest in my life. I could never see enough of him. He saw me, though. Watched me as I slept, or spied on me as I wandered about with Celeste. I felt his presence constantly. He hovered in my dreams—beautiful and real—and possessed them as his own. I would wake in the dead of night to a soft, rustling sound, and smell his rich scent in my hair. I walked through the corridors, feeling his step just behind me. He was everywhere.

"Who would have thought?" I murmured to myself at night. "Who would have thought I could love a vampire?"

And yet, in the midst of all this happiness, there was one thing I could not forget.

_Mom. _

I hadn't heard from anyone back home. I had no idea of the state things were in. Were the police looking for me? Were they searching in America as well? How was Mom? Was she taking care of herself? Did she know about my disappearance?

The list of questions were endless, and they gnawed at me day and night. I had asked Aro what the date was, but he refused to tell me. I guessed it was still summer from the flushed faces of the tourists that were brought in weekly to sate the Volturi's thirst (I had yet to accustom myself to _that)._ But what difference did it make, in the end? If Mom was declining, I would have to leave no matter _what_ season it was.

When I expressed these concerns to Celeste, she merely shrugged. "Why are you so worried?" she asked. "You have Aro wrapped around your little finger. Ask him for a visit home."

I smiled at her perception of our relationship. I worshipped him as much as he did me, if not more. "He'll never agree to that."

"How do you know?"

I sighed. It wasn't a bad idea… but when could I ask?

My chance came two days later, while I was reading a book in my room. It was an ancient novel, bound in morocco. Aro had loaned it to me, understanding my boredom when he was involved with the coven's affairs. The script was old, and difficult to read, but I loved touching the sweet-smelling pages.

I was running my fingers over a medieval engraving when I felt him brush against my shoulder. His long, white fingers closed the book.

"Good evening, little one," he whispered.

I looked up with surprise and pleasure. It was later than I'd thought.

"What is this?" he asked, lifting the book.

"Something about the Saxons. You should know, anyway. You loaned it to me."

"So I did…" He smiled absently. "You know, I've lived for centuries since this was published, but I have yet to read it."

"Really? With eternity on your hands?" I teased.

"I have not the leisure of some of my kind," he said, smiling. He took my hand in his. "Come for a walk with me."

I held his hand tightly as we moved quietly through the corridors. We kept pace with each other for a time without speaking, but I could not be silent for long.

"Aro?"

"_Si?" _

"May I ask you something?"

"Certainly."

I took a deep breath. "Do you think that… well, perhaps… I could go home for a visit?"

His face didn't change. "A visit? When?"

"As soon as possible."

"Why, _piccola?" _

"Well…it's my mother. I need to make sure she's alright. She wasn't looking well when I left."

"Mm." He titled his head slightly, looking at me. "And if I say no?"

My face fell. "You're forcing me to stay?"

"I'm not forcing you to do anything, Geneve. Answer my question."

I sighed. "Then I wouldn't leave. I can't get out of here myself."

Aro stopped in front of me. His eyes were like diamonds. "Are you so desperate to leave, then?"

I looked at him pleadingly. "This has nothing to do with you," I whispered. "I don't _want _to leave, but I _have _to." I laid my head against his chest, the sapphire necklace pricking my skin. "Don't you see? If she gets really sick, then it will be all my fault. I can't just abandon her. Not like this."

There was a pause, then I felt his fingers weaving through my hair. "I'd forgotten," he said softly. "What it is to be human." He shook his head. "Such strong attachments. Such emotions." He kissed my forehead. "And you will not change your mind?" he asked hopefully.

"No. Nor about you, either."

Aro chuckled. "That's good to hear, _bella mia." _

He took my hand again, and nothing more was said for awhile. We ended up back at the door to my room, with the familiar etching on the knob.

I turned to say goodnight to him. I'd learned, like so many other things, that I could not make Aro do anything. If he wished to stay, then he would. If he didn't, then it was not my place to press the matter. We loved each other, but I was only a mortal, after all. I had to obey him like the rest.

It was a price to pay, but if it meant being close to him, then so be it.

"I love you," I whispered.

He was smiling with the tender expression he often used with me. His hand reached out, curving under my chin. "You're so pale," he said, his voice melting in the darkness. I watched him deliberate, feeling his way across my face, until his eyes sparkled with sudden life.

"Come here," he said eagerly.

My legs were swept out from under me, and he held me against his heart. The hallway flashed by at an inhuman pace.

"Where are we going?" I gasped. He didn't answer.

I closed my eyes, dizzy with the strange, gliding motion. I opened them several seconds later, when a soothing sensation brushed against my face. The pressure of Aro's arms had disappeared. I looked up, expecting to see his pale face, but instead I was dazzled by a host of countless, glittering stars.

"Oh…" I whispered.

He pushed me forward gently. I leaned back until my neck hurt. I was outside. Actually _outside. _The touch on my face was a_ real_ breeze, so rare in the sweltering Italian summer. It was too dark to see where I was precisely, although the ground at my feet felt very hard. The sky opened up above me, free of any clouds, or even a moon. It was beautifully, perfectly _empty. _Just space, and the two of us. I felt tears prick my eyes.

Aro watched me, smiling at my reaction. "How do you feel now, _piccola?" _he asked softly.

I ran to him, letting him catch me halfway. "It's been so long," I half-sobbed. "I hardly remembered anymore."

"Come, Geneve," he teased. "It's only a sky."

I shook my head. "No, it's more than that." I couldn't make him understand, but somehow I felt that he did. How else would he know to bring me out here? To show me the worldfor the first time in…in… _how _many months was it now?

"Thank you," I whispered to him. "Thank you so much."

I felt his lips moving through my hair, caressing my jaw line until they found my mouth. There were no more words then, and I let him taste every inch of my being. The tears ran down my face, mixing with the kiss, and I heard him groan at the sweet, corrosive taste.

Looking at him, I felt a sudden wrench in my breast. I loved this immortal. I loved him to the point of insanity—an insanity as sweet as his own eccentric ways. There was not a line in his face I couldn't read with my lips. I drew him slowly under the night sky, painting him with my love, until he opened his eyes and I saw my dark angel in all his glory.

"It is a gift to hear your thoughts, my love," he said huskily. His body was closely aligned with mine.

I kissed him again. "I wish I could hear yours."

"You do," he said, smiling. "I tell you often."

"It's not the same."

He lifted his dark head, looking at the stars. "I know, my sweet, but it is all I can offer."

I ran my hands down the sides of his neck. He continued to watch the sky, ignoring me as I undid the first three buttons of his collar. I noticed he was not wearing his necklace, but disregarded the thought. I spread apart the collar with my hands, exposing his smooth, alabaster throat.

_You're so beautiful, _I thought, overwhelmed. I leaned forward timidly and touched my lips to his throat.

Aro's eyes closed, and I saw his lips move silently. The thought I was giving him pleasure excited me, who so often gave it to him herself. My kisses grew more frequent, caressing every bit of flesh I could reach.

Aro bared his teeth slightly. "Geneve, _sarai la mia morte._"

"Speak English," I murmured.

"No."

I kept going, moving my hands to trace the shadows under his eyes, when I felt his body quivering. His eyelashes swept along my fingertips. He was using every ounce of his self-control. I was flirting with danger again.

"Sorry," I said quickly, moving away. My lips were burning.

"Such a brave little girl," he whispered. He drew me towards him, wrapping his arms around me. "Such a beautiful, brave, little girl…"

"I'm not little," I mumbled against his chest.

He laughed. "But you _are! _When I think of the chasm of centuries that are between us…" He kissed the top of my head.

I looked up at him sadly. "I wish…I wish that I could be of more use to you."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Well…" I sighed. "It's just that sometimes I feel like this has all happened too soon, and maybe it's all too good to last."

Aro actually rolled his eyes. I'd never seen him do that before, and I fought back a smile.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing, my love. I've only heard similar statements many times in my life." He grinned slyly. "They are not worth it, believe me. Why do mortals feel they have to believe the worst? Why be a doomsayer, if you have _proof _of happiness before you?"

"I'm not a doomsayer. I was only—"

He touched my lips. "Not another word, _piccola. _I brought you here for enjoyment, not to discuss dismal topics that will only make you miserable."

I sighed. I couldn't help feeling that there was another reason behind his reluctance. Maybe he was worried himself? Or did he just not have an answer? Either way, I didn't ask anymore.

We stood there for a long time together. When I grew too tired to stand, I curled up in his lap, his long, black hair drifting across my face. He knew the names of all the constellations, including the planets, and sang their names to me until I could hardly open my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, he was guiding me up to my door.

"Wake up, little one," he said, kissing my eyelids.

"Will you stay?" I murmured, stupid with sleep.

"Not tonight. I will see you tomorrow."

"Good night," I whispered. He brushed a hand along my face, then left me standing by the bedroom door. I pushed it open and groped about for some matches. The fire was lit, of course, but it didn't extend to where my bed and dresser were. I scraped one against the wall, holding it in front of my face.

The flame died quickly, probably due to my shaking fingers, but it gave me just enough time to see the gore before me.

Blood smeared the walls, the bedpost, and the carpet, giving off a faint, sickly odor. It covered a pile of cloth in the center of the room, which I recognized to be one of my dresses. There was no pattern to the markings—it was as if someone had merely taken their hand and spread the vile substance wherever they pleased.

The stains were turning brown, but they were fresh enough to twist my stomach. The match went out, and I screamed.

* * *

><p><strong>At this point, readers, I would suggest re-reading the very end of Chapter 18: Survivor. <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 21: Questions **

"_Horrible as my sufferings were, _

_I kept them, with a morbid reserve, _

_very nearly to myself." _

_(J.S. LeFanu; "Carmilla") _

"Shh…" Celeste held me tightly, attempting to look around at the same time. I was shuddering violently, unable to stop.

"Who did this?" I sobbed over and over. "Who would do this?"

"I don't know, Geneve. You _have _to relax, ok? There's nothing here that will hurt you."

She looked at me in bewilderment, probably wondering why a girl who hung with vampires was so easily shaken. True, I had been possessed by fear only months ago, when Aro's cruelty was at its peak, but… this was different. I had felt _fascination_ mixed with fear. This was pure malice. And from an enemy I couldn't see.

"I swear, I'll kill her," Celeste muttered under her breath. She was sifting through my shredded dress with disgust.

"Who?" I whispered.

"I'm not sure, but I'll bet it's Jane. She and Felix have never stopped hating you since you came here."

"But _why?_ I never _did _anything!"

She laughed bitterly. "Oh, yes, you did. Don't you see, Geneve? You've taken her place. There is only one person Jane worships, and you have taken him from her."

I shivered. "And Felix?"

"He's just a brute. Hates any human."

I followed her around as she inspected the room, too afraid to be alone for one minute.

"Yes," she continued. "I would say you've done a pretty good job of infuriating some of the most dangerous immortals here." She looked at my stricken face. "It isn't _your _fault, of course. Don't believe that for a moment. I just wish Aro would watch over you a little more. Why didn't he smell the blood? You said he was just here."

I collapsed on the bed, which was, mercifully, untouched. "I don't know. You said yourself it was barely noticeable until you entered."

She frowned. "Mm. Let me know next time he comes, and we'll tell him together."

"_No!" _

My response startled her. Her eyes hardened. "Why not?"

"Trust me," I pleaded. "I'm only human, and easily frightened. He would only laugh at me."

"_I_ didn't laugh. This could be serious."

"_Please, _Celeste. I just want to forget the whole thing."

She shook her head. "Sometimes, Geneve, I just don't understand you."

I could hardly understand myself. Fear was still crawling through my veins, but I stood firm to my resolution. Yes, perhaps he _would _laugh, but I didn't tell Celeste the _true _reason. If Aro got wind of this, he would constrict my freedom even more, and I would _never _see Mom again. And it was imperative I see her at all costs.

Oh yes. _And _stay alive in the meantime.

Celeste dug through my drawers, pulling out a washcloth. She dabbed it in the wash basin, and proceeded to scrub away at the stains. Anger mixed with disapproval in her crimson eyes.

"I can do that," I insisted.

"This isn't _your _blood," she retorted fiercely.

"Nor is it yours."

She pushed me back down. _"Rest. _I'm going to spend the night with you. Is that alright?"

I nodded, relief washing over me. I didn't know how I was going to sleep in this room again, much less by myself.

Celeste finished quickly, tossing the bloodstained rag into the fireplace. The flames blazed up briefly, then settled down to a familiar, soft glow. She lay down beside me, pulling up the covers.

"Come here," she whispered. I settled willingly into her cold arms.

"Thanks, Celeste," I said softly. "You don't have to do this."

She pushed a pillow under my head. "What are friends for?"

I closed my eyes, feeling her cool breath against my neck. To my surprise, sleep came easily, although I wasn't spared the nightmares that followed. They were incoherent, most of them, but frightening enough for me to spend a restless night.

_I wish he had come in with me, _was my first thought of Aro. Then I rebuked myself, remembering my plan. Mom needed me. I _had _to stay alive for her…. and him.

_Stay alive, _I thought drowsily. But what was I protecting myself from…?

* * *

><p>A week passed without event. The stains had come off easily under Celeste's experienced hand, but that didn't prevent me from seeing them every time I shut my eyes. I could hardly go in my room without feeling revulsion. Once, I had to pass Jane in the hallway. She turned to me with the most demonic smile I'd ever seen.<p>

"Good evening," she whispered, brushing past like a wraith. As if she knew everything. As if she'd known all along.

Later that afternoon, I had a similar occurrence, only one more curious than frightening. I was walking down a gallery in the labyrinth of halls, when I suddenly caught sight of Caius' white shock of hair. He was deep in an argument with a female vampire. After a moment, I recognized her. She was the woman I'd seen twice before, wandering the halls like a misplaced ghost.

I gasped a little, and they both turned to look at me. Yes, it was her. She'd told me her name once, but I'd forgotten it. Something strange and exotic. Her hair was plaited, falling down on her shoulders amid bits of gems and shining metal. Her eyes shone from her face like two mirrors, black and silent.

"Oh, look, Caius," she said in a lilting voice. "We have an eavesdropper."

Aro's brother scowled at me, then took her arm and disappeared around the corner. I lost no time in going the opposite direction.

"Who _is_ she?" I asked Celeste impatiently, when she had a moment. "I keep seeing her. Why was she talking with Caius?"

Celeste played with my hair. "You haven't been brushing," she said softly.

"Celeste," I complained.

"I don't know, Geneve."

I pushed her away. "Yes you do."

She looked over my shoulder, staring at nothing. Then she stood up, as if to leave, but I stepped in front of her defiantly. "Well?"

"Geneve…" Her eyes were frightened. "I'm sorry, but… I can't tell you anything. I have no right. I didn't even _mean _to hear… They didn't know I was there." Her hands were trembling.

I stared at her confusion. _"Who?"_ I asked. "What did you hear?"

She shook her head, curls dancing, and put a finger to her lips.

"Just tell me who she is," I pleaded. "I won't tell anyone, I promi—"

"They'll _kill_ me!" she hissed. "Don't you understand? I _can't, _Geneve! I'm sorry!"

I didn't question her further. How could I? I was frightened enough now for both of us. We eased into lighter conversation, but the strained, nervous look in her eyes remained. That's the way it was between us. If a topic came remotely close to the woman I'd seen, her mouth closed with a snap, and her eyes forbade me to question her further.

I was silent, but I ached for answers. I couldn't talk to Celeste. I forced myself to lie to Aro. I was alone. I considered his guard for a time, encouraged by the shy, sweet look in her eyes, but I changed my mind. Renata didn't have my gift. She kept nothing from her master.

_My gift. _It gave me a headache to think about it—that strange, unreasonable glitch in my brain. Fear guarded my mind, tracing my footsteps, but it blocked the one I loved from giving me what I needed most: relief. Someone to tell the secret to, without opening my mouth and hearing my own terror.

But… at the same time, it was a blessing. Aro _wouldn't_ find out, and I could rely on him to let me leave of my own free will and see Mom again.

It was all so confusing. And terrifying.

"Oh, my love," I breathed to myself at night, when Celeste had left to feed. "I wish you knew. I wish I could tell you."

I needn't have worried. The next incident left no room for doubt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 22: Silence of the Dead **

"_It's the thief in the night to come _

_and grab you…" _

_(Rihanna; "Disturbia") _

"Amazing," I whispered.

I stood alone in the art gallery, where Celeste had left me an hour ago. There were many others in the Volturi's demain, but this one in particular was my favorite. It was from Chardin's best period, at least three hundred years ago. We had studied his work back at the university (how long ago it seemed!), and I knew the subtle mix of glaze and texture by heart.

I smiled to myself, shaking my head. I knew it by the style, but had never seen _this _work in particular. Nor had the rest of the world. It was one of many treasures the ancients chose to keep for themselves.

I walked through the gallery, occasionally touching a piece with cautious fingers. It was just like a museum, only there were no markers. No plaques to indicate the artist, unless I knew it myself.

I left the gallery, finally, after walking around one last time. My stomach was growling, and I hope I would find a meal waiting for me in my room. I walked alone down the dimly lit halls.

"Celeste?" I called. I frowned. She had said she'd wait for me, but there was no sign of her. I shivered. She knew how I hated being alone nowadays. "Celeste?" I called again.

Strong fingers wrapped around my throat, choking off my air supply. I gasped, trying to scream, but the light was fading quickly. Something hit the back of my head, and I dropped to the floor, unconscious.

* * *

><p>When I awoke, I was lying on my back with my arms and legs spread out. My head was splitting with pain, as were my bruised limbs where I'd fallen.<p>

"What's going on?" I whispered.

No one answered. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I was alone again… for now.

I struggled to my feet. Nothing was broken, but I had to steady myself against the wall as the blood rushed dizzyingly to my head. I stepped forward cautiously. My foot struck against something soft.

"What the—?" I felt with my fingers, horror growing in my heart. The thing was very soft, true, but it wasn't until I reached the head that I realized it was a human body.

"Dear God," I whispered. I felt the raised bumps of the face…the cold lips… the wet eyes. They were open, and no sound came from the chest beneath me.

I bit back a stifled cry. I crept back to the wall, then fumbled frantically in my pocket for a match. There was only one. A crackling sound followed the flame as it sparkled to life. I stood up, throwing it into the torch bearer behind me. Within seconds, half the corridor was illuminated.

_Don't turn around, _my mind begged. _Whatever you do, don't turn around. _

"But they need help," I whispered.

_They're _dead, _Geneve! They're dead! _

"No…"

I turned, although every cell in my mind screamed for me to stop. It didn't matter then, because _I _was screaming. Screaming so loud, I couldn't even hear myself think.

A young girl lay sprawled out on the floor, her body faced upwards like mine. She was very young—no more than thirteen—and her complexion was Italian. She was very thin, but very pretty. It was difficult to tell this, but I forced myself to look past her broken bones, her mutilated, cut flesh, and the wounds in her chest and throat. I knew if I focused on them, I would go mad.

I knelt closer, tears running down my cheeks. Her skin was cold. Her lips were blue. She had been dead for a long time, but I couldn't possibly know _how _long.

So why was I laid next to her?

I stood up again, retching into a grating beneath my feet. When I wiped the bile from my mouth, I noticed something shimmering by the girl's foot. Creeping forward, I picked it up in my hands.

It was a knife.

Blood stained my hands as I dropped it. It matched the dark, wretched color that covered her poor body.

_And mine, _I realized suddenly. My hands must have been bloody before, for I could feel a dry crust on my face, and similar gruesome streaks across my clothing.

"Who would do this?" I moaned. Why would a vampire stab a human? Those wounds in her throat had seemed proof enough, but the knife… What about the knife?

I looked up through my tears. Someone was coming down the passageway. I didn't even have time to run or hide the knife before five cloaked figures surrounded me.

"What's this?" snarled the smallest figure. I recognized Jane's voice.

"Someone's been having fun," remarked Demetri. I looked up at him. Any sign of past friendliness was gone, and he looked at me now with absolute loathing.

Felix stood next to him, saying nothing. Two more vampires were to his left, but I'd never seen them before. They were both male, and their eyes curved into red slits.

"No…" I pleaded. "You don't understand. Someone hit me. I was just lying here, and then someone—"

Jane slapped me. "Shut up!" she hissed.

I saw Felix smile with pleasure as my head cracked a second time against the stone. Demetri lifted the knife in his pale fingers. "You did this?" he asked.

I saw them all turn, noting the blood on my clothes.

"No!"I cried. I tried to sound brave, but it was like a sob. "I didn't _do _anything!"

"_Little Gene-eve broke the law…"_ Felix breathed in a sing-song voice.

Jane jerked her head, eyes flaming, and the two other vampires grasped my arms.

"Wait!" I cried again. My foot knocked against the girl's leg. "Who is she? What will happen to her?"

Jane didn't answer, but Demetri looked at me quizzically. "Don't you care for your _own_ fate?" he asked calmly. "I should think you would."

I didn't respond to his frightening comment. The vampires were sweeping me along with them. Their hands were causing me great pain, but I didn't dare say anything. I could only hold my breath as the mighty doors were swung open, and I was ushered into the familiar "counseling" room. Pinpoints of light trickled down from above, but the sun was obviously dying in the west. The room was bathed in semi-darkness, giving the skin of the immortals around me a weird, eerie glow. Candles lined the room, as I'd seen before, and a wraith glided past us, setting a lighted taper to a torch.

"My lord," Jane called in her sharp, high voice.

I whirled around, blood rushing to my heart. It was quickly replaced by a sinking fear. He wasn't there. Neither was Marcus. Only—

"Thank you, Jane," Caius said coldly. He looked at us. "Set her down."

The guards obeyed implicitly. They threw me on the floor. This time, however, I was able to brace myself with my arms, thus lessening the brutal impact. I quickly rose to my feet, not wanting to kneel before this strange, white-haired brother like some wretch.

Caius ignored me. He conversed with Jane for a few minutes, their voices too low for me to hear. When she was finished, the gaze he turned on me was positively horrific.

"I see," I whispered. "That _is _unpleasant, isn't it?"

Jane smiled at me, then crossed the floor to stand beside her brother. Alec was stone, as usual.

"I've heard a most curious thing," Caius continued, walking down the marble steps. "Jane has informed me that you have killed in our realm. A human, to be exact. Do you know what this means?"

I took a breath, but thought of nothing. Any defense was useless.

"I said, do you know what this means?" he repeated.

I was silent.

"Jane," he said impatiently.

I turned to look at her, confused, but she snapped suddenly out of my vision. Everything snapped; smashing and colliding until I was looking not at her, not at Caius, but upwards in a red, violent haze. The pain crippled me before I felt it. And when I _did_ feel it, it ripped from me sounds that I'd never known I was capable of making.

Someone laughed. _Felix? _I thought blindly. The pain was crippling my thoughts now…

"Again," said Caius, very sweetly.

My body hit the floor, prostrate with agony. I bent backwards in a daze, praying my spine wouldn't snap from the pressure. The torment continued, blinding and terrible, until…

"That's enough, Jane," he said.

_Jane? _I thought. Jane? My mind wandered…

"_What is it Jane does, exactly?" I asked. _

_Celeste looked at me, and her hand reached out to squeeze mine. "I hope you never find out, my dear," she whispered. _

"Too late," I said aloud. My voice cracked.

"What?" Caius snapped. I opened my eyes and saw him hovering over me. A white devil with black hate in his eyes. He ranted on, saying something about a law—something I'd destroyed, or maybe broken—but I couldn't hear anymore… I pressed my cheek to the cold marble, tasting bile. A soft, wailing sound echoed in my ears. It was awful. Like a wounded animal in pain.

"Make her shut up," I heard him snap.

_Oh. _It was me. A fresh cry broke from my lips. Stone collided with my skin, whipping cruelly across my cheekbone. I rose a second time from the floor, this time with a hand to my face. Caius snarled, lifting his hand towards Jane, and I saw her demonic face turning towards me again.

Then it was very quiet. A merciful quiet, giving me time to breathe. I braced myself, prepared for another onslaught of pain, but no one was watching me anymore. A deadened stillness hung in the air, and Jane stood away from me, her malice subdued.

I looked up, and saw Aro standing in the doorway.

"Oh, Aro…" I sobbed. I couldn't reach him. My body wouldn't let me rise.

"What is this, Caius?" he asked softly.

His brother frowned. "You took your time getting here," he replied evasively. "Usually _you_ are the one to lead these discussions."

Aro turned slightly, his red gaze on Jane. The tiny vampire fidgeted a little. "Let me explain, my lord…"

Aro raised his hand. I wished he would speak. The silence in the room was unbearable as he moved with slow, sure steps towards me. He looked down at me for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm disappointed in you, Caius," he said finally. "It is no secret you resent Geneve's intrusion, but surely your jealousy hasn't fallen to such a level?"

"_Jealousy?" _his brother spluttered. "Jealousy? This isn't a petty child's court, Aro. I am trying to bring justice to a crime. A crime that has been committed within our own walls. Don't try to soften my resolve with your words. A law has been broken, and one of your _own, _I might add. This…_girl…" _he forced the words out. "…must understand that if she is to reside here at our pleasure, she _must _be mindful of our rules."

"Caius—"

"_No, _Aro! I'm _sick _of this! The Volturi _give no _second chances!_ Another _of your laws!" His voice lashed out in the silence, making me flinch.

Only Aro's face remained smooth and composed. Without speaking, he glided across the floor, coming to a half beside me. He reached out, feeling the bruises on my cheek. I closed my eyes, and a tear squeezed out, running over his fingers.

"It appears, Demetri, that you've let your temper go unchecked once again," he said calmly.

Demetri's eyes flashed. "It wasn't _I, _my lord."

I heard the huge vampire behind me shift uncomfortably.

"I see. Felix?"

"Yes, master."

I winced. Aro had found the cut along my jaw line. He gestured to me. "Are you to blame for this?"

"Master, believe me, I didn't—"

"Get out," Aro said softly. "All of you."

Felix bowed his head, and retreated from the room, Jane and the others following close behind.

I sighed as Aro's hand came away from my face. My eyes pleaded with him; asked him to help me. But what could he do? I had no alibi. I had nothing but the truth.

Caius rose swiftly, nearly knocking over the guard beside him. "Are you trying to _insult_ me, Aro?" he snapped.

His brother ignored him, lifting me gently to my feet. I caught my breath as he brushed his face along my neck, skimming across my shoulders and arms. I blushed in embarrassment. We weren't the only ones in the room, after all.

"_Well?"_ Caius said.

Aro turned away, a humorous smile touching his lips. "I trust you're still accepting evidence, dear brother?"

"Evidence? _What_ evidence? She's guilty!"

"Her scent suggests otherwise."

So that was it, I realized. Aro had been smelling me, gathering the only shards that remained to my defense.

"I found the girl," he continued. "I saw what Jane and the rest saw. The body has been lying there for at least six hours. While it is true Geneve carries the blood on her clothing and face…." Aro smiled. "…her scent has not lingered there long enough. It would have been much fainter, had she murdered the girl."

"Ridiculous!"

"Would you like to smell her yourself?" Aro invited.

Caius' face was red. "You can't bring up an alibi at the last minute like that!"

"Perhaps not," his brother replied politely. "But considering how short a time _you've _considered the case, I would say that is a moot point."

Caius looked from me to Aro in bitter indecision. It was clear he wanted me dead; I'd known that from the beginning. But now that reason was staring him in the face…

"Very well, Aro. But if something like this happens again, you know what her fate will be. I don't care _what _alibi you come up with. We're fortunate this didn't take place out of doors."

"Indeed," Aro said, smiling.

"I expect justice done, Aro. I don't care what she had or has not done. We cannot let this slip through. They _must _pay."

Aro's smile grew even more frightening. "But of course, dear brother. They will pay dearly."

His hand flashed out, reaching for my elbow, and I found myself being steered towards the exit. I looked back. Caius was sitting on his throne again, looking very much like a spoiled child who hasn't had his way.

The doors slammed shut behind us. Aro reached for me, then, and I let him pull me towards him, tasting my lips with raw hunger. It hurt, but I don't think either one of us cared.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you, readers, for being so patient. Your reviews are so appreciated. :) <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 23: Stay with Me **

"_If you want me to break down…_

_I can do that, but I _

_Can't let you leave." _

_(Barcelona) _

I clung to Aro, breathing in quick, short gasps. He wiped my bleeding face with a corner of his cloak, then cradled my head against his shoulder. "I can't leave you for one minute, can I?" he teased gently.

"Please don't," I begged. "If you only knew how frightened I am—"

"I know, love, I know," he soothed. "It's only natural. However, I'm sure that with time, and a little rest, you will have forgotten this little accident."

I gasped. "You think this was an _accident?" _

"Of course. Have you reason to believe otherwise?"

"Aro, I wasn't just _found_ by that girl's body. Someone _put _me there."

He looked at me sharply. "What are you saying, Geneve?"

My mouth snapped shut. _Idiot, _I thought. Here I'd promised myself not to tell—never to let him know—and I'd nearly blurted out the secret.

Aro grasped my chin firmly. "Answer me, Geneve. You believe this was a set-up?"

"No," I said quickly. "I don't know what I'm talking about. You were right." I pulled away, putting a hand to my head. "I'm just tired, Aro. Jane—it still hurts."

His eyes softened. "I'm sorry you had to endure that, my love," he said gently. "It will never happen again."

He opened his arms, and I leaned into his chest, relieved.

"You needn't worry," he continued. "You are well protected here. I will see to it you are even better protected after this." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And if you ever find that _anyone_ is hurting you, Geneve, or following you, you only need tell me, and I will cheerfully tear them to pieces."

I shivered, guilty in my deception, but also unnerved by the calm way in which he spoke.

"Do you hear me, love?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes."

"Good." He took my arm again, and led me to the door of my room. His hand reached for the knob, but I stopped him. "Wait!"

He halted, staring at me. "Is there something wrong?"

I thought of the brown smears staining the carpet, and searched desperately for an excuse. "I don't want to be left alone," I whispered. "I don't want you to leave me."

"But I am coming with you, _piccola," _he said, smiling.

I shook my head. "Not here. Not after…" I stopped, and a shudder ran through me.

"They have taken the body away," he reassured me, thinking I meant the girl. "You shouldn't be afraid anymore."

"I know, but…" I looked up at him pleadingly. "Can't we go somewhere else? Somewhere… farther?"

Aro watched me silently. After a moment, he spoke. "Would my own chamber satisfy you?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

His red mouth lifted at the corners. "Very well, then." He held out his arms again, and I came obediently. He lifted me easily, surrounding me with his strong scent, and we were moving swiftly down the corridor. My room lay behind us—forgotten, for now.

* * *

><p><strong>For those of you begging for "more AroxGeneve pairing"... well, I guess you know where I'm going with this. :) coming soon! <strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it took so long my dears... and you're very welcome. *-* **

**Chapter 24: Beautiful Devil **

"_For I have sworn thee fair, _

_And thought thee bright, _

_Who art as black as hell, _

_As dark as night." _

_(Shakespeare; Sonnet 147) _

"Don't you want to change?"

I turned around. "What?"

Aro indicated my dress. "You've brought nothing with you," he said softly.

"Oh." I smiled. "Oops."

He chuckled, opening a cabinet behind him. The robe he held out towards me was very soft. It practically melted in my hands.

"I thought you said black didn't suit me," I said, taking it from him.  
>"It doesn't, but it will have to do, won't it?"<p>

I nodded, clutching the robe to me. He saw me glancing around the room. "I will wait outside," he said quietly. He touched my shoulder in passing, then disappeared out the door.

My hands were shaking as I pulled off my dress, laying it neatly on a chair. I slipped the robe on over my slip, still shivering (although whether from fear or something else, I couldn't tell). I stepped towards the fire and tripped, nearly falling.

"Get a grip!" I hissed.

There was a soft tap. "Are you through, my love?"

"Yes!"

Aro entered, drawing a hand across his face. I thought I saw something gleam for a moment, but I couldn't be sure. He advanced towards the fire, lifting me easily onto his lap.

"I change my mind," he said softly. "You look quite seductive, my dear."

Me? Seductive? I laughed uncomfortably. "That's not a good word for me, I'm afraid."

"Why not?" He kissed my forehead. "You are a beautiful girl."

"I'm glad you think so."

Aro turned my head in his hands. "You don't believe me?"

"No," I admitted.

His face hovered close to mine. "And if I _made _you believe?"

My heart jolted. "Still no."

"Oh, come," he said, very gently. "It is not so difficult."

"Of course it isn't," I sighed. All the insecurity; all the self-consciousness I'd ever felt in my life, seemed bottled up in that one moment. What in God's name had I done to deserve him? "Of _course _it isn't…. when you are _already _perfect." I gazed at him hopelessly. "Absolutely perfect."

"Is that what you think?" he murmured. "That I am better than you?"

"It's easy to believe."

"Oh, Geneve…" He pressed his lips to mine, then stroked my face with one hand. "How could you little one? How _could _you?"

I stared at my hands, folded in my lap.

"Shall I _tell _you how beautiful, how perfect, you are?" he asked then. "Would that satisfy you?"

I looked at him. He brushed a hand through my hair. It had grown longer, falling past my shoulders. "Your hair is like fire," he whispered. "I used to long to touch it. And your eyes—like two stars—form such a lovely contrast. Like ice against flame."

He had traced the skin around my eyes as he spoke, and I shivered when he touched my lips. "So warm…" he breathed. "So precious and fragile." His hand slid down my throat and stopped. "You're not wearing your necklace?"

"I took it off last night," I admitted. "And I forgot to put it on again this morning. I can't wear it to bed. The sapphire… well, the tip is sharp, and—"

"I can give you another," he consoled. He gestured to his elaborate crest. "Like mine."

I shook my head. "I'm not part of the coven."

Aro pressed my head back against his chest. "That can easily be fixed," he whispered. I didn't miss the hint in his voice.

"No, thank you," I said softly.

I thought I heard him sigh, but the sound was drowned out in the crackling flames. I was beginning to feel very warm, despite the ice-cold around me. The odd combination of temperature made me remember another time… another night. I hadn't forgotten what _that _had felt like. Sometimes I would wake in the night, hot with blushes, and feel his knee prying gently between my legs—

"Your thoughts are utterly fascinating," Aro said suddenly. I caught my breath, but he continued. "I can only catch flashes here and there, and even _they_ are imperfect." He sighed admiringly. "Such a marvelous gift."

His fingers played in my hair. Every movement of his lifted me to a still more heightened state of awareness. I had only felt this once before, when we were in my room, and him hovering over me. Scarlet streaked up my skin as I remembered. My throat felt very dry, as if dying of thirst. My heart was a wild drum in my chest. And still he played with my hair—casual, gentle, unknowing.

_I want you, _my body screamed. And yet I couldn't act. I didn't know. I was stupid. Naïve. I couldn't ascertain between the needs of my body… and the needs of my suffering heart.

Aro looked down, hearing the change in my heartbeat. "Are you alright, little one?" he asked.

"Yes."

He chuckled. "Mm."

I rose a little, then turned in his lap to face him. He looked back at me, still careless, still unknowing. His eyes were pools of red light, reflecting the fire. I held his face in my hands. They looked so fragile, against his stony flesh, but I didn't let go. Leaning forward timidly, I kissed him once, softly, on the lips.

It began rather innocently. He chuckled against my mouth, surprised, but responded eagerly enough. I let him guide me through the kiss, but when he began to pull away, I grasped his jacket in my fists, willing him to stay. I closed my eyes, feeling dizzy, then edged my tongue slowly into his mouth.

A sound rippled through his chest, like a snarl. His fingers trailed up my waist, tightening like a vise on my upper arms. I could feel _his _tongue now, dominating my own. He covered my mouth, and his lips were incredibly soft…

"Aro…" He bit my lower lip, and I gasped into his mouth. "Aro… I can't breathe."

He laughed. "Perhaps you should have thought of that _before." _

I broke free, collapsing against him.

"Weary so soon, love?" he whispered. There was the faintest tone of mockery in his voice.

I hid my face. "I can't do this."

"No," he said, amused. "No, you can't. But _I _can."

"So?"

"'So?'" He laughed. "Of course, you had a brilliant start, my love. Quite sweet, really. But why not leave the guidance to me?"

"I don't even know how far… how far I wish to go with this."

"I'm sure _I_ can be the judge of that."

His gaze glided down my throat, and my face flushed. "You're thinking of it even now," I accused.

Aro's eyes softened, dimming to a dark ruby. "I do not deny it," he said quietly.

I laid his hand on my cheek. "I _want _to please you," I said. "But… you must teach me, Aro. Teach me everything you know."

"Everything?" A soft chuckle slipped from his lips. "You would be cursed indeed, Geneve, were I to do _that. _As it is, though…" He rose, looking down at my face. His fingers graced across my cheekbone. "Ah, yes," he whispered, half to himself. "I will show you how to love me."

I watched him walk across the room. A shiver of anticipation flew up my spine. My eyes were too weak to follow him, and he was lost for a moment in the shadows. Then the darkness cleared, and I saw him standing by the bed, a smile on his face.

I stood alone, as if in a trance. The heavy cloak had disappeared from his shoulders, and his shirt gaped open as before. My eyes traveled down his chest—past the familiar crest and the stony pectoral muscles—and froze when they alighted on a thin line of hair streaking past his abdomen. He had loosened the belt beneath it, and I could see the hard bones of his pelvis. The black line curled between them, dark and rich in the firelight.

"Aro," I whispered. I couldn't say anything else.

He smiled again, this time with a hint of a smirk. I could not keep my eyes off of him. I traced the contours again and again, conscious of the flaming red that had crept into my cheeks.

"Of course, dear one," he said suddenly. "You _may." _

I glanced up, startled.

"Oh, don't be surprised," he whispered. "Your face is like an open book."

Blood rushed to my head. "Then don't stop," I whispered in return.

His smile grew wider, and he moved towards me until I was looking up at his face. My fingers reached out instinctively, longing to take him as my own. I caressed the stony surface, gliding down until my fingers curled in the silky strands. I bent even closer, nuzzling my face in the softness.

"You're beautiful," I said softly. I put my arms around his neck, and began to kiss his throat. He closed his eyes as before, the air coming sharply between his teeth. I felt a little frightened, but decided to disregard it in my own pleasure. It was all so new to me—I wanted every moment, every feeling.

I brushed my lips against his skin. It tasted like snow; sharp and sweet.

"Not enough," he hissed suddenly. "Not enough."

I opened my mouth, about to ask him what he meant, when his lips crushed against mine violently. He repeated my own actions, tasting my tongue, only this time with double the strength, double the passion. My head tilted back under his force, and I feared for a moment that he would devour me whole.

"God," I heard him whisper. His lips left mine to explore my throat, murmuring over its softness. His hands came up to grasp my shoulders. Then he tore away, looking at me. His eyes were fierce, but gentle.

"Go to the bed, Geneve," he said.

My lips trembled. "Aro…"

"Go to the bed," he repeated softly.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

I struggled against him. "I'm not ready."

Aro lifted me, still remarkably gentle. His face was radiant. "You have only to ask, little one," he said tenderly. "And I will stop. Remember that."

I buried my face in his long hair, nodding silently. I kept my eyes closed as long as possible, delaying…forgetting…

_What can I expect? _I thought, strangely terrified. _What if I disappoint him? I _know_ I'll disappoint him. I can't do this. _

Aro's hands were cold on my face. "Sleeping, my love?" he teased. "But the night has just begun."

I giggled. _Don't be an idiot, _I thought.

He laid me down gently. My black robe shone darkly against the crimson satin—too dark. I felt blinded in the magnificence of his room. I was a tiny thing; insignificant.

I looked up where I lay. I felt him hovering over me, a great shadow, then he sat down beside me carefully. I watched his stony fingers curve under his collar…

"Aro?" I whispered.

He didn't answer. He was removing the crest from his neck. Then his long arms slid from the black cloth, and the shirt rippled to the floor out of sight. A tear fell from my eyes, staining my neck. And yet I didn't know why I was crying. The candlelight played with his perfect skin, daring me to touch it. He turned to look at me then, and once again I saw the black line, curving on his chest…

"Aro…" I said again.

He bent over me, his hair hanging down in rich color. "Yes, _piccola?" _

I seized his face in my hands. "Aro, I'm begging you—"

"No, my love," he interrupted. His eyes were flaming red. "It is _I _who beg you. I cannot restrain myself any longer. Either help me, Geneve, or ask me to leave the room."

I gazed into his perfect face, my thoughts conflicting.

"Is it fear?" he breathed. "Because there is nothing to fear, you know. I will never hurt you again."

"I'm not afraid of you," I said finally. "I'm afraid of myself. I'm afraid of what you'll think of me."

Aro took my hand, pressing it to his lips. "You know what I think of you, Geneve."

"I mean…" My face burned hotly. "I mean as no one's seen me. I mean _as _myself. Completely. No restrictions."

"I understand you," he soothed. "But you needn't be embarrassed. Not if you love me."

I ran my fingers through his hair; listening to him, loving him. He was so kind. So compassionate. Had anyone else seen this, I wondered? Had anyone touched his heart to this extent? How many had passed through hell, only to be embraced by heaven?

I smiled faintly. Only myself, apparently. And I _wanted_ that love. I would die for it.

"I trust you," I whispered.

Aro smiled, and my heart throbbed in my chest. He rose for a moment, feeding the dying embers across the room, then returned to my side. I felt tempted to say, "Now what?" but his hands were moving already, resting gently on my shoulders.

When he pulled off my robe, I closed my eyes.

"Perfect, _cucciola mia," _he whispered. "Now do not open them until I tell you."

"Sure," I heard myself say.

He chuckled. Cold air struck my neck as he tilted my head back on the pillows. I felt him untangling the ribbons of my gown. It was an old-fashioned nightgown, with various odds and ends, and a mass of fastenings in the front. I usually needed help from Celeste, just getting into it.

"Sorry about that," I apologized, still with my eyes closed. "It can be confusing."

"Perhaps for you," he said lightly, and I shivered as I realized he'd already peeled it off. I always wore a cami and underclothing with it—the material was too thin—but I still felt terribly bare. I longed to see his face.

"Your skin is very white," he said softly. "You don't get enough sun, Geneve."

"I can't see it here," I responded. I could feel the air on my legs now, and his quick, almost inaudible breathing.

"You were pale even when you came. So white…" His hand touched my blushing face. "Like a rose dipped in milk."

He said nothing then, but I could feel his breath on my face. I wondered, agonizingly, if he would go on like this forever, just watching me lie there…

"Aro?" I whispered timidly, after several minutes. "It's alright. You can…touch me, if you want."

He laughed, and his lips were like silk against my cheek. "I was waiting for you to say that."

Then he _did _touch me, and I felt my body arching slowly to meet his fingertips.

No fear. No consciousness. Only emotion.

_Dear God, _I thought, dazed. _I could have missed this. I could have missed _him.

There was a rustling sound, and I was vaguely aware of a pressure on my body. I lifted my hands, and touched the smooth arch of his neck.

"Are you still frightened?" he breathed in my face. "Am I as loathsome as you first supposed?"

"I never thought that," I whispered. "I misunderstood."

He laughed, teeth long and sharp. "Yes, you misunderstood. We may be devils, Geneve, but there _is _beauty in immortality. A beauty I hope you will someday long to share."

I trembled under him. "Not now, Aro. You promised. Please."

"Of course," he whispered, eyes sparkling. "Of course."

I gasped, startled. His lips were on my neck, tracing the network of veins. He stopped where my pulse throbbed, then began to suck slowly at my skin.

I sighed, but it sounded like a moan. He licked and caressed up to my lips, no doubt leaving a string of bruises behind. But I didn't care about that. I was watching him; watching his shoulders rocking as he fed his pleasure. His muscles rippled above me, white as snow. I loved the color of his lips when he looked at me. They were crimson, as if he'd drunk my blood without my knowing it. My heart exulted, knowing I was giving him this.

"Why are you smiling?" he whispered. .

I said nothing, but began to laugh. My body shook. He laughed with me, his deeper voice masking my own. Even when he gripped the fabric by my throat, tearing it to pieces, I still laughed. I laughed until Aro's lips caught mine, silencing me, and still the room danced about in a circle, framed by the darkness and our own heated passion.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 25: Dreaming **

"_The last part… is perhaps the _

_hardest for me to tell, since it begins with so_

_much happiness, in spite of everything…"_

_(Elizabeth Kostova; "The Historian") _

I looked at the face before me, carefully concealing any alarm I felt. "It's not… _that _bad."

"Really?" he whispered in my ear. His fingers caressed my hair. "Ah, my dear… I'm afraid I very nearly destroyed you."

I threw the mirror down. "But you didn't, Aro. That's the whole point."

He smiled. "I confess I'm not _too _sorry, then. Do you have the slightest conception of how desirable you were?"

"Perhaps." I snuggled against his satin chest. "I'm still trying to believe."

The moments passed, each one connecting the other in perfect harmony. Then, after what seemed an eternity, he stirred. "Geneve, I have to feed now."

"No." I clung to him. "Don't go."

He disentangled himself, chuckling, and stepped off the bed. I watched him pin his hair back carefully, then slip into a dark robe that matched his eyes. Had they still been red, of course.

"I will return soon," he whispered.

He was gone before I could detain him, and I fell back on the pillows, sighing. I put on my own robe eventually, not wanting to see the marks that glowered back at me. I didn't mind the bruises much. They only made me more completely a part of him. But the sight of them still disturbed me a little.

I was prepared to wait a long time, but it seemed only minutes before Aro was back at my side, his cold skin warm against mine. I looked at the blood swirling in his cheeks, and wondered why I didn't recoil.

"Was she delicious?" I asked lightly.

"He," he corrected. His face was sparkling with humor. "And yes, _he _was. I've tasted better, of course, but this one was tolerable."

"Ah." I had nothing more to say.

"Geneve," he whispered, close to my ear. "If you ever make the decision to join us, I promise you whatever license you wish. If it pleases you not to feed on humans, then so be it."

"But…but there's nothing else."

"No, my love. There are alternatives. We simply choose to ignore them. I have heard, however, of certain select covens feeding on the blood of animals."

"Ugh." I shuddered. "Am I supposed to find _that _appetizing, too?"

Aro kissed my throat. "You will think of nothing else, Geneve. That is, _if _you decide…"

"No," I said firmly. "I still have to think about it."

I saw the impatience in his eyes before he masked it under a smile. "I will ask someone to bring you your breakfast," he said softly. He dressed quickly, snatched a cloak from the wardrobe, and then bent over me again. "Meet me in the gallery when you've finished," he whispered, brushing my cheek. Then he was gone.

I sighed, stretching myself out luxuriously. I had awoken in a panic, convinced last night had never happened, but Aro had pulled me back down, laughing at my confusion. It was only then he'd looked at me sadly, slipping the mirror into my hands.

"It's not that bad," I repeated to myself. "It could've been worse." The bruises spread in a ghoulish pattern over my face and neck, and my lips looked like a squashed fruit. One would think, by looking at me, that my limbs were in a similar state. But… he'd been so gentle. Vicious, yes. Passionate. But unerringly gentle as we grew more intimate. There was only a little pain in my arms, along with a soreness in my side. But elsewhere… there was nothing. He'd handled me as though I were a flower, easily crushed by rougher hands, but blooming to perfection when he touched me.

I was running my fingers through my hair, trying to instill _some _order, when Celeste came in. I was overjoyed to see her. "Hello, Celeste!" I sang. "How are you this morning?"

I noticed then the awe on her face, and suppressed a laugh. I realized she'd never been down here—possibly never set foot in this room—and for the second time was marveling at the fact I was alive.

"Did Aro send you?" I asked.

She stared at me, confused. "Yeah." She set down the tray beside me. "I was… surprised. I mean, I didn't know…"

"It's ok, Celeste." I smiled at her, then drew the tray near me. Scents swirled around me, curling my stomach into a tight ache. There was a dish of eggs, coffee, cream, and a warm bowl of some type of gruel. It smelled like cinnamon. "This looks wonderful."

"No different than what I usually bring you," she said.

"Oh, but it is." I closed my eyes, savoring the coffee. "You obviously don't remember what I ate my first few weeks here."

"True." She smiled for the first time. "So…are you not staying in your room now?"

I looked up from a mouthful. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well, Aro doesn't seem to mind, and as long as we don't know about the—"

"Don't," I said hastily. I didn't want to think about what I was concealing from him. I didn't want to bring the lie into this room.

"Aren't you worried?" she said concernedly. "I know I am. I've been looking around for you, and I don't think it was Jane."

"Jane wouldn't do it. She's too loyal to her masters." And yet, I couldn't forget that hateful stare of hers. She loathed me, I knew.

"Well, what other option is there? Felix?"

"Celeste, I don't want to talk about this now."

"I'm sorry." She sighed, looking at me. She reached up, touching my hair with a frigid hand. "I shouldn't ruin your happiness, Geneve. Forgive me."

"_Do _you believe I'm happy?" I said softly. "Do you believe me now?"

"Yes," she answered. Her hand dropped away, but her eyes were tender. "Or at least, I'm starting, too. It actually seems to work, you and… him."

I smiled. It was wonderful to hear her approval. "Then I can face it better now," I whispered. "Now that I have _two _people beside me."

She hugged me tightly. "Just don't face it alone, Geneve."

* * *

><p>I spent the day with Aro. He had cancelled any of his other affairs, in order to give me his "full, undivided attention." (I was avoiding Caius and the rest entirely now, after yesterday's horror.) He led me through the galleries again, and this time I not only learnt the names of the artists, but their lifetimes and styles, as well. I was surprised how many had been commissioned by the Volturi, or "borrowed," as Aro laughingly put it. There was even a self-portrait of Caius, although the painter had not done him justice. Only the eyes were perfectly captured, glowering at me like two live coals. I asked Aro if he had one.<p>

"Not to this extent," he laughed. "Caius has always preferred the extravagant. Although you _will _see my brothers and I engraved in cameos or jewelry and such, I never had the patience for a full portrait. Marcus didn't care, of course."

"But the painter?" I said hesitantly. "Surely he must have guessed…?"

"Of course he did. Caius was not remiss on _that _score. He waited 'til it was finished, paid the man in full, and then promptly murdered him."

I stared at the painting, horrorstruck. "Would _you_ have killed him, Aro, had he painted you?"

"Probably not," he said lightly. "He was an excellent artist. I would have enjoyed seeing more of his work."

He took my hand, and we moved on to the next painting, the deceased man still fresh in my thoughts, In time, though, I forgot him. There was too much else to see. Everything was so much richer through Aro's eyes, and his breadth of knowledge astonished me. He easily beat me in conversation, pointing out details my art professor, Ms. Sanders, would have never known. Then when I tried to bring up modern and abstract art, he crushed me there, as well. He told me how the Volturi did not scorn modern inventions or art. Rather, they embraced them, like every other century. I wondered, silently, if the rest of the guard embraced them, or if they looked down on what Aro called "the old ways."

When afternoon came, I ate my lunch in the counseling room, kneeling beside his throne. He talked to me for hours, telling me about the Renaissance, the French Revolution, and how some vampires he knew had fought for their own countries when war came, even though it was a risk. After all, corpses shouldn't come back to life suddenly, especially after being shredded by a machine-gun.

I talked too, now and then. He asked me about my life, showing interest he'd never showed before. He asked me about college, my hobbies. Finally, he asked me about my mom.

I fidgeted in his lap. "She's…different."

"She isn't like you?"

"No. Physically, yes. She's short like me, with my hair and my eyes, and she never tans, either." I smiled. "She's more outgoing than me, but you have to really know her to see it. She's a dreamer, I guess. She doesn't like to face things. My dad passed away when I was three, so it's just been the two of us for a long time." I realized all at once how homesick I was. "She's everything."

Aro ran his lips along my forehead. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I should not have asked you."

I shook my head, but he was already speaking again, urging another topic on me gently. The light from above was waning, and I remember craning my neck to catch the last few rays of sunshine. Then I felt myself relax, drifting in and out of sleep on his shoulder. His voice went on and one… lulling, soothing… I could no longer hear words, but I could feel his throat humming under my fingertips, and the cool of his sweet breath on my face. It grew very dark. Someone stirred about the room, lighting the candles. My legs were moved out from under me, and he stood me on my feet.

"Geneve," I heard him whisper. "Wake up, little one."

"Sorry," I mumbled. He laughed, saying something in Italian. I covered his lips with my hand. "No Italian," I insisted, more awake now. "English."

He kissed my fingers. "You asked me to teach you, love."

"Not when I'm half-asleep."

He led me from the room, still laughing softly. I could feel his fingers on my shoulder, caressing the cloth, and I knew how he longed to touch me. Just the thought of it made the desire well up inside me again. I turned around, twining my arms around his neck. I was fully awake.

"Well?" he whispered. "Where does _mia angelo_ wish to sleep tonight?"

I held him tighter. "Your room."

"Is there something wrong with yours, my pet? Something I should know of?"

"No," I said hastily. I prayed fervently he couldn't read my thoughts. From the look on his face, he couldn't. "There's nothing. It's just that…" I scrambled for an excuse. "It's too cold. Your room is warmer. I like it there."

"Most interesting," he observed. "Considering it lies in a crypt." He looked at my pleading face, then smiled. "But I shan't force you. Not tonight, anyway." He bent, touching his tongue to my lips. "But never fear, my love. I will see what you are hiding from me."

I shivered, but not from his touch. "Go, then," I whispered. "I'll just grab some things."

"Do you know the way?"

"Celeste will show me."

"Very well," he said softly. He kissed my lips, not gently this time, then glided smoothly down the corridor.

I walked quickly, shoving the key into the lock once I got there. I opened the door, then sighed with relief. No one was there. No ghost jumped out to scare me. The blood stains were brown and fading, and easily ignored. I crossed the room, pulling off the sapphire necklace. I laid it gently on the vanity, wrapped in a silk handkerchief I'd found in my bureau.

"I'll have to think of something," I muttered. "Perhaps Celeste can help me scrub the stains out permanently. But the smell…" Yes. The smell. Stale and pungent, like an old coffin left in an abandoned churchyard. And I was only human. A vampire would notice far more than I did.

_Later, _I thought, trying to calm myself. _I'll think of it later. _

I sifted through my wardrobe, looking for something that would tempt my _own_ angel. I smiled as I pulled a dark red gown from the folds of clothing. It was of 18th century make, falling low over the shoulders as gowns did back then. The bodice was laced with gold, and the whole thing shimmered and moved in the candlelight. _Perfect. _

I was just slipping off my robe, hanging the dress behind me, when someone knocked at the door. It was a gentle tap, much like Celeste's, and I smiled brightly. At least I wouldn't have to search in the dark for her. There wasn't a chance I was finding Aro's chamber by myself.

"Come in," I called. I turned around, swiftly lighting some more candles. The door creaked on its hinges, then closed again softly. "Now, Celeste, I _know _you're going to hate this, but I really need your hel—"

I don't know what made me stop mid-sentence, or why I suddenly laid down the match with trembling fingers, but something told me that it was not Celeste who had entered my room. My breath was ragged in my chest, but I swallowed my fear and turned around slowly.

I didn't recognize her at first. Why should I? We had never met. I couldn't explain why I felt so afraid, or why my veins suddenly turned to ice water. We stood silently, each facing the other, and for a second I could almost believe it was a nightmare, and I'd fallen asleep without realizing it.

She spoke first. Her voice was as soft and refined as Aro's, but it had a peculiar hoarseness to it, as if it hadn't been used for some time. "Are you Geneve?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yes."

She brushed a strand of hair from her face. I couldn't tell what color it was—black? "Do you know who I am?"

"No."

She sighed. "Oh, dear. I had hoped I wouldn't have to explain things." She smiled a little, looking directly into my eyes. "My name is Sulpicia. I am Aro's wife."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 26: Here Comes the Bride **

"_...a sculptured thing, formal and cold, _

_beautiful still but lifeless." _

_(Daphne du Maurier; "Rebecca") _

I blinked, feeling myself grow dizzy. "Wife?" I repeated.

"Yes, dear." She spoke patronizingly, as if scolding a child. "Of course I don't blame you, but I confess I am just a _little _annoyed that Aro neglected to mention me."

"You can't be his wife," I whispered. "He would have told me."

"Aro?" She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. If he cares for you as much as I've heard, he wouldn't go around relating the family secrets. Oh!" She stopped, raising her hand for dramatic effect. "Perhaps he thought I was too scandalous! That I would be a bad influence. Don't you think?"

I stared at her, still horrified. "His wife," I kept repeating. _He has a wife, and he never, _never _told me. _

Sulpicia watched me sympathetically. "Poor darling," she whispered. "I know how you feel. You feel betrayed, lost, frightened. Perhaps even angry. I know. I know how it is to have your lover wrenched from you, without the slightest warning, and be left alone in the dust. And then to have to watch him give that love to another, breathing secrets that you alone thought you shared. Oh, yes. I understand it all."

I watched her, pale with terror, and struggled to speak. "Am I…" I cleared my throat. "Am I this…this betrayer?"

"Who else?" she asked sweetly. She walked to the center of the room. A strong perfume swirled around her.

"You don't understand," I said faintly. "Aro never told me anything—"

"You could have found out," she interrupted. "You have an intelligent mind, Geneve. At least, _he _seems to think so. You could have searched out these matters for yourself."

"How?" I retorted. Fear kept me alert. "No one would tell me, even if I _did_ ask."

"Mm. What of your friend? The blonde vampire?"

"Celeste?"

Sulpicia smiled. "She knows of us. She sniffed it out, until fear of punishment drove her away."

I thought quickly, scrambling for memories. Now that I considered it, there _had_ been several times she'd hesitated, and then grown pale when I pushed for answers. A remembrance of the woman and Caius flew to my mind, and I gasped suddenly.

"You see?" Sulpicia murmured.

I stared at her. "She was his wife. You all have mates, except Marcus. _His_ was killed."

"Ah, so you know that, at least. Yes, of course, we have mates. Athenodora is Caius' eternal companion, and a particular friend of mine." Another awful smile. "She was the one who first told me of you. You ran into her thrice, I believe."

I nodded stupidly. It was too much. Too much knowledge, too much fear. I tried to form coherent questions. "But _why?"_ I blurted out. "Why would he love me, take me in his care, if _you_ were mated to him?"

She sighed, feigning distress. "Therein lies the mystery. Terrible, isn't it?"

She walked past me, ignoring me when I cringed, and examined the vanity. Her fingers lifted the handkerchief, and the gleaming sapphire fell into her hand. She held it up to the light casually. "A gift of Aro's?"

"Yes." I let a triumphant edge creep into my voice. "One of many."

The curve of her jaw line hardened, and she replaced the necklace. I was struck by her devastating beauty. She looked exactly like one of the vampire brides from _Dracula_, except her hair was a rich, dark red, and instead of a white dress, she wore crimson brocade lined with gold. It was full and thick, and she wore it with a grace that surpassed any fictional character Stoker had ever dreamt up.

She moved further, towards the dresser. She opened drawers, examined clothing; laughed when a black robe fell to the floor. She talked slowly; talked about herself and Aro. Telling me things I couldn't believe, nor understand. I watched her, a choking feeling rising in my chest.

She turned finally. "I will be frank with you... Geneve, isn't it?" She continued after a slight pause. "I came to warn you, Geneve, that you're making a very stupid mistake."

"Aro can be the judge of that."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"We don't need you interfering."

She looked even more astonished, and a little angry, at my use of the pronoun "we." Her lips curled. "You _are_ obsessed," she said coolly.

My tone matched hers. "You just noticed that?"

"No. But I can tell you exactly what will happen…" She fingered one of her rings casually. "…if you don't give up this foolish obsession _now_."

"What do you mean?"

Sulpicia straightened, and her figure was stark and beautiful in the lamplight. "I have lived with Aro for more than a thousand years. I have had ample time to observe him, hear him...satisfy his _needs_, shall we say?" She smiled unpleasantly at me. "I know him well. Do you think that you are the first female he's ever come across? The first pitiful mortal ever to spark his interest?"

I wasn't smiling. "Of course not."

"Well then, you must realize that this ridiculous..." she scoffed contemptuously. _"…romance_ is no more than a small piece in his memory. Aro has lived for too many millennia to be interested in you for long. Sooner or later, you will lose him. And he will banish that memory from his thoughts in a second. You mean _nothing _to him. _Nothing._"

She paused, letting the words sink in. She tossed her dark head proudly. "_I_ am the only female who has retained his interest, whether vampire or mortal."

"Then why haven't I heard of you?" I asked. "Why doesn't _anyone _hear of you, or Caius' wife?"

I had hit a nerve. Her eyes were venomous. "That does not concern you, dear girl."

"It concerns Aro."

"I've already told you," she said, growing angrier. "Aro does not care for you."

"Look who's talking."

Her hand smacked down on a chair. _"Silence!"_ Bits of wood dangled from the ruined frame. "I could kill you," she hissed. "And I would, if I didn't know he was waiting for you right now."

I lowered my eyes.

"It makes no difference _what _our relationship is, just as it makes no difference to him whether you live or die."

My head snapped up. "That's not true!"

She laughed. "Who is in denial now?" She reached out, gripping my chin. "Trust me, darling." Her voice dripped with poison. "The only memory he'll keep of you is the way you _tasted." _

I recoiled from her, stumbling backwards. I collided with the door, then wrenched it open. I couldn't get away from her quickly enough. Sulpicia called after me. "Don't get lost, dearie! It's not safe after dark!"

Her shrill laughter echoed behind me as I ran through the corridor. I passed Jane, and her lips were twisted in a mocking smile. I thought I heard _her _laughing, too, but didn't stop to listen.

I ran, my lungs heaving, until I reached the familiar room with the piano. I flung it open, and staggered inside. I sank to my knees, breathing heavily. My hand touched something soft. Looking down, I saw I'd fallen on Aro's cloak, cast carelessly on the floor. I drew it around me, breathing in his scent hungrily. It was then the tears came. I sobbed in the growing darkness, oblivious to everything, until the pain finally eased, and I fell asleep.

* * *

><p>I woke up suddenly, wincing when light struck my face. Dust motes flew about, aglow in sunshine from the high ceiling. My neck hurt. The floor must have been harder than I thought. I stirred without opening my eyes, and groaned. My whole body felt like the first day I'd come here, freezing, and terribly sore. I reached out blindly for Aro's cloak, but met stone instead.<p>

My eyes flew open. A glittering face of crystal looked back at me.

"Aro!"

"Geneve," he said tightly.

"Aro, why are you—what happened to your—?"

He interrupted. "Geneve, are you ill?"

I stopped, confused. "No."

"Are you suffering from mental distress?"

"Um…no?"

"Then perhaps you might explain why you're _here,_ of all places. I had three of my guard searching, and we did not find you 'til past midnight, when I caught your scent leading to this room. What on earth were you doing?"

"You're angry at me."

He kissed my forehead. "I'm not angry, precious. I am merely frustrated. It is not safe here. I thought you were aware of that. Why did you not come to my room, as promised?"

I looked away, chagrined. I'd forgotten. All I'd wanted was to get away… get away from _her…_

"What is wrong with you?" he repeated, frowning.

I sighed, kissing his cold fingers.

"What is it, my love?" he asked, more gently.

I looked up at him. "Aro, there's… there's something I have to tell you."

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><p><strong>*sighs* posting another one, soon. thanks for being so patient! <strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**A bit of conflict here. Is Geneve ready to face Aro's differences all the way? _Is _there a limit to empathy? **

**Let me know readers. Do _you_ pity Sulpicia? **

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><p><strong>Chapter 27: Crime and Punishment <strong>

"_You will think me cruel, very selfish, _

_but love is always selfish…"_

_(J.S. LeFanu; "Carmilla") _

Aro lifted my necklace from the floor, the chain slipping through his fingers. "You are certain it was her?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not certain of anything. She told me her name, and I believed it."

"What did she look like?"

I stared at him. "Don't you know?"

"It's been a long time," he said, his voice distant. He examined the sapphire closely. "A _very _long time."

I didn't want to describe her, but I did. "She was tall. Cold. Her hair was dark red, but her eyes were black. She wore a crest like yours, only on her finger." I shuddered. "She was a monster."

Aro looked up at me, his eyes inscrutable. "You are afraid of her."

"Yes."

He gestured around the room. "And you think she was responsible for this damage…and all the rest?"

"Yes."

Aro smiled, satisfied, for some reason. "Well, I suppose we must dispose of her, then. Demetri?"

The guard popped his head in. _"Si?" _

"I want you to go to the tower. Tell my wife I desire her presence."

Demetri's eyes widened. "The tower?"

Aro smiled benevolently. "Perhaps you are hard of hearing? Do as I say."

I couldn't bear it any longer. "Wait!' I cried out. They both looked at me. I walked up to Aro, clutching his robe. "You don't have to do this," I pleaded. "She doesn't deserve it."

Aro waved to Demetri. "Leave us."

When we were alone, he gripped my arm with a hard expression. "Have you gone _mad,_ Geneve?"

"Aro, please—"

"Did you not just tell me what that woman has done to you?"

"Yes."

His eyes flashed. "And do you not want to _keep _your life?"

"Yes."

"You're _damn_ right you do," he snapped.

I winced. "She told me everything, Aro. How you never loved her. How you locked her away in a tower with the rest, never allowing her freedom. She said you'd ignored her. For centuries."

Aro released my arm as I spoke. A pale rage dawned on his face. "Yes?"

"She told me she was using me to revenge herself on _you. _I know it's stupid, but… I can't help pitying her." I was trembling. "She's in so much pain, Aro. She hates you for what you did to her."

His lips were white now. "What_ I_ did?" he repeated calmly.

"Yes." A hot pain rose in my heart. "Don't you see, Aro? How can I continue like this, loving you, if there's this shadow between us? I can't forget it… _this. _Will you tire of _me _as well? Will you lock _me _away, only to rot in a tower?"

"God," he whispered, turning away from me. "She's more clever than I thought."

"_Why_ am I clever?" I demanded. "Because I found out about it?"

"I am speaking of my wife."

He looked at me, at my confused, heartbroken expression. His face… his face was terrifying. "Do you want to know the truth, Geneve?" he said softly. "Do you want me to tell you?"

"Please don't."

"Whom do you trust more?" he persisted. "Me or Sulpicia?"

"You," I whispered.

"Then don't interfere." Seizing my arm, he pulled me down the passageway. We ran into Demetri, who seemed to be looking for us. "I found her, my lord, just as you requested," he said nervously.

Aro looked at me, smiling menacingly. Then we were in front of the counseling room, and a draught of cold air chilled me. The morning light poured down, glaring as ever, and I saw Felix, standing in the center of the marble. Sulpicia stood beside him.

"Ah! _È voi,_ Sulpicia?" Aro called. "_State osservando più bei che mai." _

She drew back her teeth, glaring at him, when her eyes settled on me. With an inhuman snarl, she tore free of Felix, lunging across the room towards me. I threw up my hands, covering my eyes, but I was being pulled back, locked in a grasp of iron. I looked up. It was Demetri.

"Shh… calm down, _mia selvaggia."_ Aro whispered. His dark form aligned perfectly with Sulpicia's. I would have thought them lovers, if his fingers weren't wrapped around her slim, white throat. "I don't often lose my temper," he said dangerously. "But you have pushed it to the limit this time."

Sulpicia opened her mouth wordlessly, her eyes wide with terror. They lit on me, locked in Demetri's arms, and her teeth bared. _"Her?" _she sputtered. "This is all for _her?" _

Her husband laughed. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he mocked. "To be replaced by a pathetic human girl." He shook his head, still laughing. "Ah, Sulpicia… I pity you, my dear."

She writhed, wild with fury, but he held her fast. I watched in horrified astonishment as a web of fine cracks crept up her skull, disfiguring her forehead. Her eyes bulged in her sockets, and she froze.

"I swear…" I heard him breathe. "By the devil, if there _is _one, if you ever so much as _speak _to Geneve again, I will rip you into so many pieces, they won't be able to _find _you to burn them. Is that clear?"

Sulpicia nodded. Aro released her abruptly, and she fell back, only to be seized by the waiting Felix. Garbled Italian poured from her lips, mingled with curses.

Aro turned away without a second glance, smiling at someone who had just entered. I didn't need to look. Demetri flinched above me, making it obvious. He released me slowly, keeping a grip on my upper right arm.

"My lord?" Jane sang happily.

Aro kissed her cheek. "Take care of this for me, will you? Your master is weary."

Her eyes darted towards me, blank of expression, then eagerly met those of Sulpicia. The female vampire stiffened in Felix's arms. "You wouldn't _dare!"_ she screamed at Aro.

Aro smiled. "Would I? From what I heard of _your _plans, dearest, this punishment is surprisingly lenient. Go ahead, Jane."

And Jane smiled.

I knelt to the floor, clenching my ears in a desperate effort to keep out the screaming. Felix's eyes were closed, but he was smiling, too. Even Demetri was more cheerful now. And Aro—my dark beloved—he was the giddiest of them all. The emotion filling the room wasn't resentment. Nay, it was stronger than that. It was _hate. _

"Enough," Aro said, after an eternity.

I looked up only when she stopped shuddering. Her body wilted to the floor, pillowed by her elaborate dress. Dracula's bride defeated.

"Now get her out," he snarled. "I don't want her in my sight again."

Jane walked past Demetri, ignoring me, which made us both happy. Felix left the room with Demetri, dragging Sulpicia. I could hear her moments later, wailing like a lost girl.

"Geneve?" Aro called my name. He blocked the light, dark and unrecognizable.

A tear wet my cheek, followed by others. I didn't know how to feel, nor what to think. "That wasn't necessary," I whispered.

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't interfere."

"I'm not interfering. I don't like this, Aro. I don't likethis side of you."

"She deserved it, Geneve."

"No one deserves such—such _torture." _

"No?" he said harshly. He bent lower, gripping my shoulders. "You didn't see her mind, _piccola." _

I pulled away. "How could I? I'm ignorant."

"Stop this, Geneve."

"I can't, Aro!" I cried. "How can I believe you anymore, when you do something like this?"

A strange expression clouded his face. "Geneve, you cannot blame me for that. I have done similar things in the past. You must get used to them, if you love me."

"She's lived for thousands of years, Aro, as have you. You have much more in common than I. 'You're nothing to him,' she said. She said I was nothing more than a piece of your memory; something easily lost, but not cherished. You'll forget me." I wiped my eyes angrily. "I'm _nothing, _Aro. I'm worthless."

"You are only repeating what she said," he accused.

"I'm sorry. I can't help but believe it. I'm only human."

"Oh, for God's sake, Geneve!" He turned away, only to turn back with stormy eyes. "You _cannot _compare yourself to us. Much less to someone like Sulpicia."

"Do you still love her?" I whispered.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm sorry, Aro. I need convincing."

He lifted my chin, look deep into my eyes. "There is only you, _piccola," _he said softly. "I care not if you're mortal."

"Then why does it matter?" I pleaded. "You made her promise not to harm me. Why was Jane necessary?"

He moved away. "You don't understand."

"No," I whispered. "Neither of us do."

His fists clenched. "Damn her," he snarled viciously. "Damn her, and anyone else, for ever speaking to you."

He flung open the door, white with anger, ignoring my pleas to him. When the door slammed, and I was alone, the silence was overpowering. Blindly, I stumbled across the floor, up the steps, and to Aro's throne. I curled up in it, crying silently. My conscience was tearing me in two. I thought of Sulpicia, and my heart twisted with sudden pity. To live caged up and isolated for centuries, without recognition or deference from her own mate, was surely beyond what even a vampire could bear. Was I wrong to pity her? I'd always been sensitive, even as a girl; easily touched by those around me, whether for evil or good. Was there a limit to empathy?

_She could have killed you, and you pity her. _

I can't help it.

_You couldn't be an immortal. You're too weak. _

He wouldn't make me change, anyway. He loves me.

_He told you that, and you doubted him. _

* * *

><p><strong><em>EnglishItalian translation: (which I usually don't do, but whatever...) _**

**_"_State osservando più bei che mai." - You are looking more beautiful than ever. __**

**__"Mia selvaggia." - my wild one __**


	9. Chapter 9

**I confess... I cried a little in this chapter, and I was pretty keyed up by the end, so excusez-moi if the writing is a teeny bit scatterbrained. **

**Enjoy, my loves. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 28: Time's Running Out <strong>

"_One thing I have learned as I go through life _

_Nothing is for free along the way." _

_(Jekyll & Hyde; "A New Life") _

"Oh, my gosh!" Celeste charged towards me the minute I entered my room. "Are you alright?" she asked breathlessly. "I heard about Sulpicia, and I thought—"

"No, Celeste." It felt wonderful to be hugged. "Aro took care of it."

She sighed. "I feel terrible, not letting you know about her, but—"

"I understand, Celeste. You couldn't possibly tell me." I looked around the room. "I'm starved. Is there anything to eat?" I wasn't, really, but it was something to say.

"Sure, darling."

The day passed slowly—agonizingly, I thought—but Celeste helped ease the boredom. Aro had left some of his books in my room, and it was something to do when she left to feed. But I couldn't concentrate. As usual, I blamed myself for everything that had happened. When night came, and Celeste left again, I'd made up my mind.

"Please don't let Jane be about," I muttered, snatching my cloak from the closet. Torturing her own mistress wouldn't put _me _above her. Not a bit. I could just picture her face if she knew who I was looking for.

I closed the door behind me, then walked quickly down the hallway. The torches never stopped burning, so it was easy to find my way. Of course, the problem was I didn't really _know _the way. I wished I'd never met Sulpicia (who didn't?), and Celeste had led me to Aro's chambers after all. Then I would have _some _inkling of where he was. My first visit, it had been pitch black. The second, Aro was carrying me, my face against his chest. I was lost.

"Oh, come on," I whispered. I walked about in circles, frantically looking over my shoulder now and then. Shivering with cold, I had just decided to go back, when an even cooler breeze washed across my face. It seemed to come from a room to the left, only there were no torches to light the way. I crept down the hall in that direction. I could feel the temperature dropping steadily. When I reached the source of the air, I realized it wasn't a room at all. It was a winding stairway, equally as dark. Grasping the walls, I found my way up, curving for heaven knows how long. When I finally reached the top, there was stitch in my side, and I was freezing. I looked around, and gasped softly.

It was the same place Aro had brought me before; the only difference was the weather. I'd come to Italy in the sweltering summer months. It was now at least mid-fall.

"Aro?" I called. I prayed it _was _him, and not someone else who had come up here. I had never known the coven to leave doors open. It was drafty enough underground, whether you were a vampire or not. I gathered my cloak about me, grateful for its warmth. The tiles and spires about me were covered in frost, giving everything an eerily beautiful appearance. Even the stars seemed frozen, and without the moon, it wasn't much brighter than down below.

I shivered, coughing a little. _It was stupid to come up here, _I thought. _If he _wanted _me, he'd ask. _

"You'll catch your death," murmured a voice. Aro's face appeared beside me, glowing in the darkness. He caught my hands, rubbing them in my cloak. "It will snow," he continued, looking up at the sky.

"In Italy?"

He smiled. "Of course. Did you think we didn't have snow in Europe?"

My heart quickened for a moment, imagining him in white drifts, his eyes crystal with cold. "No, I guess I didn't. Do tourists come here in winter?"

"Yes, but not as many." He said nothing else, and I knew what we were both thinking. Was the feeding as good, this time of year?

"Thank you," I said, my hands warmed. I sighed. "Aro, about this morning…"

"Oh, can't we forget about that?" he interrupted. He dropped my hands, walking away. "What's done is done."

"You won't let me apologize?"

"Whatever for?"

"Aro…" I sighed again, exasperated. "Aro, we… we can't go on like this, avoiding everything. Sooner or later it's going to creep up on us."

"If you mean our differences, I have already proposed a solution for that."

"Do you think that by changing, my _heart _will change as well?" I pleaded. "You told me once that your sister was like me; that she had the same 'aversion to darkness.' Those were your very words."

"Time's were different," he told me. "It is easier for our kind now. Our position is secure."

"That's not what I mean, Aro. Your sister became a vampire, but she didn't change _entirely. _She couldn't adapt herself. That's what you said. _And_ Marcus."

He smiled. "You promised not to talk to him."

"That was before you told me."

Aro shook himself, brushing off the frost that had gathered on his clothing. "So what now, my love? You won't join me, and I can't change my ways. What do you suggest?"

I was silent. An idea was growing in my brain, one that he had previously refused. But if the terms were just right… if I could convince him…

_No._ I shook my head. Not now. "I don't have any answers," I said, as softly as I could. "I don't know how this will work out for us. But I want you to know that I'm sorry for what I said, even though some of it _is_ true. I believe what you said, about Sulpicia's cruelty, and I believe you care for me, but I will _never _accept torture." I stepped closer, slipping my hand through his. "It's just who I am, Aro. _I _can't change my ways either."

He looked down at me. Then his hand lifted, wiping the frost from my lashes. I closed my eyes. His fingers were bitterly cold, but it was irrelevant. I knew he forgave me, even if he'd never resented me in the first place.

"So this is it?" he said. "You will make me wait, watching you lose your life, until I bury you with my own hands?" He cradled my face, his hands rough. "This is how you want it to end?" he whispered.

My lips trembled. "I see no other way."

He pulled away suddenly, as if stifled by the air. I watched him, trying to force down the tears that surfaced. After a long moment, he faced me again. "Come," he said gently, holding out his hand. "It's growing colder."

I took it, and he led me back down the stairway, closing the door securely behind us. I didn't ask him where we were going—I was too tired to wonder. I moved like wood, stiff and frozen. He led me past a row of German tapestries, then veered to the right, opening a small door. I wouldn't have seen it, had he not shown me.

"Watch your step," he warned. He kept a vise-like grip on my hand, and we descended to an even darker floor. After a minute, I recognized the moldy walls, and the dank, bitter smell of decay. The hall grew considerably cleaner as we continued, and he led me into a familiar room with rich rugs and paintings on the walls.

"You're shaking," he said, and I saw he was right. He pushed me towards the fire. "Go sit down, and take off that cloak. He's damp with frost."

I did as he said, feeling like an old woman as I feebly removed it. My limbs were in shock after the recent chill. It took some time before my body adapted to the warmth.

"Feeling better?" Aro asked. He knelt beside me. He was dressed in black, as usual, only his shirt was partly open, and his hair hung loose about his face.

"F-fine," I replied. I wanted him to hold me, but I was still slightly cold, and his body wasn't any warmer. He touched me, anyway, running his fingers lightly through my hair.

"Your hair is much longer," he observed. "Why don't you grow it out more?"

"It's annoying," I said, teeth chattering. "I don't know h-how you keep yours so long."

"Vanity," he replied, chuckling. His fingers moved to my neck, massaging and stroking. I looked back at him, surprised. "You're w-warmer!" I said. "Why are you warm?"

"I think it's you," he whispered. "Your body against my skin."

I blushed deeply. He moaned a little, pressing his lips to my blood-filled cheeks. With every movement, he pressed me closer to him. I thought of our recent conversation, and felt guilty. It was as if, by telling him I couldn't join, I'd fulfilled his worst fears. He could hardly bear _not _to touch me.

Aro grew increasingly urgent, his lips tasting my skin between breaths. I could feel a similar fire rising in me. Craning my head, I bit the marble-smooth skin of his throat. He purred softly. I had never heard him do that before.

"You're making this so difficult," he accused.

"I have to. According to you, I only have so much time."

"_You _said that," he hissed. Grasping my wrists, he forced me back against the carpet. His eyes were flaming, agonized. "I have not lived for a thousand years, Geneve, to lose what I have now."

I stroked his cheek. "There's still time. Decades of time."

"With your death growing ever closer." He tilted my head back, running his mouth slowly along my throat. "Let me change you, Geneve," he whispered.

"No, Aro."

"It will hardly hurt at all. You will be unconscious before long."

"No, Aro."

He licked the tears from the corners of my eyes. "You will never have to cry again, _piccola._ Never have to feel pain…"

_Never… never… _The word was irresistible. "Stop it," I begged him. "You know I can't." His teeth were bared; beautiful and glistening. He would do it, if I asked him. I would be immortal.

"What are you thinking?" When I didn't answer, he bent, placing a soft kiss on my lips. "Will I never hear you, my love?" he sighed. "Won't you let me in?"

"I _can't,_ Aro. I can't control it."

"Let me in," he whispered seductively. "Let me in, Geneve…"

His heat pressed against me, and the meaning of his words was tangled up in my mind. I felt his clothes fall beside me, and my own disappear under his patient hands. I huddled against him, still somewhat ashamed, but he pushed me back gently.

"Perfection," he breathed in my ear, and I shivered. His arm curved under my back, lifting me to him, and he kissed me passionately. I clung to him, hardly noticing his hands as they traveled down my body. He rested them in the curve of my hips, then continued. When he caught me in his palm, I arched, gasping. I could feel him, hard and beautiful, against me. I opened my eyes, and his own were dark with desire. _"Ciao bella…" _

I shuddered. "Don't stop."

His face was radiant. "I can _hear _you." He clutched me to him. "My _serenissima…" _I cried out, and he gripped me harder, coating himself in the hot liquid that dripped down my legs. I pushed up, rocking against him, and he snarled aloud.

"Say you love me," he breathed.

"I love you."

"_Louder,_ Geneve."

"I love you, Aro."

His lips covered my mouth, muffling my scream as he possessed me. The pain was short-lived, however, and I reached for his face with equal intensity. I felt him shudder above me. His muscles were tight; drawn taut in his shoulders and legs. Over and over, his lips returned to mine, tasting me hungrily. Before long, the marks appeared on my body, spreading red and angry over my neck, arms, and legs. But they mattered not. I had seen them before.

I smiled at Aro, my lips raw, then grabbed him suddenly, biting his throat. I got what I wanted. The same purring sound—so beautiful and sweet—rippled up from his chest. We continued in that way, moving in steady rhythm with each other, until he gathered me into his arms, his sculpted chest heaving silently. I panted against him, slick with sweat.

"It is not enough," he whispered. He held me tightly. "I have not the strength to release you."

I sighed. "You know then… what I was planning?" He'd heard my idea.

"I know that it is madness."

"Surely you understand?" I pleaded. "She's my _mother, _Aro. I _must _see if she's alright." He didn't answer. "You won't even tell me how long it's been!" I continued.

He shrugged his bare shoulders. "About three months. I never thought of it. We measure time differently."

I sighed, stumbling to my feet. I felt incredibly weak and battered, but I was filled with love for him. _Surely _he wouldn't deny me this…?

I walked past him, wrapping myself in my cloak. Aro stepped behind me, stopping my hands. "Don't," he said softly. "I want to see you."

He kissed me again, full on the mouth, then carried me swiftly to the large bed. He slid in beside me, draping his long, slender arm over my shoulders.

"Do you still hear me?" I asked then.

He smiled. "It is fading, but no matter. I know all I need to know." His red eyes studied me, suddenly thoughtful. "You want to visit your mother? For how long?"

I hesitated. "I don't—"

"You won't come back," he interrupted. His laugh was harsh. "You've been gone for _months, _Geneve. The _Polizia _will detain you for weeks before you even get on a plane to America. Even then, you'll still have to explain to everyone why you were missing so long."

"_You _can help me," I pleaded.

He smirked. "Ah, yes. Sneak you onto a foreign plane… disregarding customs and passport checks, of course. I'm not stupid, Geneve. I keep up with your modern world. You won't get five feet from the airport before they accost you."

I stared up at the ceiling. It was hopeless. Of course he was right, but I didn't believe he couldn't help me. Aro _always _found a way to get around things… even the law. He _made _the law. But if I wanted him to do something for me, _I _had to give in return. Even to the point of—

My eyes widened. It was a good plan, but it would mean incredible sacrifice, and unimaginable pain and grief. I wondered why Aro hadn't considered this, if he'd read my thoughts. But then again, _that _thought had never fully developed. It was only a shadow in my mind; a fretful vision of what I _might _be able to give… I looked up at his face. There was only one way to find out.

"I'll make you a deal," I whispered. "That is, if you're willing to listen."

He stroked my forehead. "Pray continue."

"I want to see my mother, but you don't want me to leave. The way _I _see it, one of us is going to have to compromise one way or another. If _you _promise to help me get home and see her again, then I promise to return to you in two weeks."

Aro's forehead creased. He had obviously lost the ability to hear my mind, and it was frustrating him. He smiled, finally. "A noble promise, but it's not good enough. How do I know you'll come back, _cara mia?" _

"Don't you trust me?"

"Certainly," he said mildly. "It's only customs officials and relatives I don't trust."

I took a breath. "Alright, then. _If, _for some reason, I _don't _return, then you can send your guard after me if you wish. But I _will _come back, Aro." My voice faltered, but he was watching me, and I continued. "I will come back, and when I do… I—I will do what you want. I will…accept your offer."

Aro stared at me in disbelief, an expression I had not seen since the first day I'd come here. He sat up, grasping my shoulders. "Geneve," he whispered. "Do not lie to me."

"I'm not lying, Aro." His hands hurt. "Don't you understand? I _want_ to bewith you. There is nothing I want more. But I have to see the people I care for one last time. If you still want me, then I will stay—stay as an immortal—with you. Forever."

There. I'd said it. I felt dizzy again, as if I'd lost blood.

Aro released me, and a mixture of emotions crossed his face. First was disbelief, then an emotion I couldn't define, then a burst of happiness that lit up his dark, handsome features. He kissed me repeatedly; stroking my skin, my hair. "You haven't the faintest conception of what this means to me," he whispered.

His happiness was overpowering. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Never mind what _I _want. Do _you _want this, Geneve? Will you be happy?"

I kissed his velvety skin. "I love you. That's all I need."

He chuckled, growing more delighted. "You are soadorable when you say that."

I laughed. "Why?"

"Your eyes say it clearly, but your body tenses up, as if you're afraid. And you speak so softly…" His cold lips tingled on my forehead. "…almost as if…as if you didn't want anyone else to hear."

"I _don't_ want them to hear." I snuggled against him. "I want you all to myself."

"You are greedy."

"I learned it from you."

Aro laughed again, the sound gradually descending into a chuckle, and then a soft melody as he sang me to sleep. I closed my eyes, seeing the two people I loved best in the world. I looked at one of them, and she looked very small, very fragile.

_I'm coming, Mom, _was my last thought. _It won't be forever, but I'm coming… _


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry it's taken so long... again, this has been a busy month, and it's only going to get worse. **

**Review, so I can know how I'm doing! **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 29: Coleen Parker <strong>

"_How I wish you would hold me _

_And that you never told me _

_That it's better if you leave…" _

_(Sarah Brightman; "Symphony") _

"Do you want the blue one?" Celeste asked, holding up a dress.

I looked at it critically. "No. I don't want any of those." I looked down at my jeans, sighing happily. It was a relief to wear normal clothes again, even if they _were _secondhand.

Celeste tossed me some more things, and I tucked them into the suitcase. It was a small one, but it wasn't like I'd had much to begin with. Everything fit snugly where I put it.

The door opened. It was Aro. "Good morning, ladies," he said brightly. "Celeste, you are looking quite lovely."

I looked over at her. She was blushing, and made an awkward bow. "Thank you, my lord."

"You know, I was speaking to Demetri the other day," he continued, seating himself. "And he asked me if I would consider adding you to our little coven."

Celeste gasped. "And…?"

Aro smiled at me. "You may."

She shrieked, grabbing me in a hug, then backed away suddenly, embarrassed. Aro was laughing at both of us. "Of course, it is not merely for _his _sake I give my consent," he said. His dark eyes turned to me. "I know how fond you and Geneve are of each other. She will want you here."

I dropped what I was holding, walking across the room. I kissed his hand gently. "Thank you, Aro," I whispered.

His teeth sparkled for a moment, then he seized my hair suddenly, crushing his lips against mine in a passionate kiss. My heart was pounding by the time he pulled away. I walked back to Celeste, ignoring her gaping mouth. "Well?" I said to her. "Let's get on with it! I still have a few more things to pack."

"Of course," she said, snapping out of it. She walked back to the bureau, and together we finished the last of my things. "If there's nothing else…?" she said, looking from me to Aro. I knew she was eager to find Demetri.

"You may go," I said softly, kissing her cheek. She hugged me, giddy with excitement, then fled out the door in a flash of color. I turned to Aro. The amusement was gone from his face.

"Is this really necessary?" he demanded.

"What?" I said, surprised.

"You know what I mean. All this rush. Is it so vital for you to leave_ right_ away?"

"You don't remember your parents," I said sadly. "If you did, you'd understand."

"I hated my parents," he snapped. He rose to his feet, his mouth twisted.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

He came close to me. "I shall miss you, Geneve," he whispered. "Do you know that?"

I sighed. His expression tore at my heart.

The door opened, stopping short whatever he'd been about to say. Celeste bounced in, wearing a light, frilly top. "It's me, Geneve!" she called. She started back a little, seeing Aro was still there.

"What is it?" he asked, irritated.

"I—I've brought Heidi, my lord."

Aro caressed my cheek, sighing.

"You did ask for her, did you not?"

"Of course," he snapped. "Let's get this over with."

Celeste stepped inside, followed by someone carrying a small leather case. Heidi nodded to me curtly, then began laying out the case's contents on my bed. I was on so many different terms with so many members of the Volturi, it was hard to remember sometimes who disliked me and who didn't. My being Aro's favorite hadn't changed her attitude a bit.

Aro was walking away. "If you're ready, Heidi, I will go and attend to some matters."

She smiled. "Of course, my lord."

Aro looked at me, touched his lips silently, then closed the door.

"Well!" said Heidi, placing her hands on her hips. "Shall _you_ begin, Celeste, or shall I?"

"Oh, you, please. I'm better with facial."

Heidi's red lips curled. "Of course." She walked over to me, pushing me down in a chair, then draped a black cloth about my shoulders. "Don't move," she ordered.

I was beyond confused. "What's this all about?"

"Just don't move," she repeated. Celeste sat on the bed, arranging some jars and brushes, while Heidi came towards me again, brandishing a black can of something.

"Close your eyes," she said. She proceeded to spray my hair with it, and then wiped spare droplets off my face. I kept my eyes closed, feeling her pull and prod at my scalp. Now and then, she spoke to Celeste, keeping her remarks as brief as possible.

"Shall we cut it, do you think?" she asked suddenly.

"No!" I protested. "Aro likes it long."

Heidi snickered. "Oh, I'm sure a _little_ layering wouldn't hurt, love." I sat there, helpless, while she snipped away. After several minutes she stopped, telling Celeste to come help her. I was told to open my eyes, but all I could see was the wall, and a mascara brush coming towards my face.

"Woah!" I said, jerking away. "What are you doing?"

Celeste handed it to me. "Well, if you don't want _me_ to do it, then do it yourself."

"But I can't!"

"What do you mean you can't?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't wear makeup. Never have."

Celeste and Heidi looked at each other, crimson eyes wide. You'd have thought I'd just said something blasphemous. "Never?" Celeste said timidly.

Of course, why a vampire as beautiful as Heidi _should _wear makeup was beyond me. "Nope. Sorry."

"Oh, let's get on!" Heidi said impatiently. Seizing the brush, she forced my eye open wide, then proceeded to apply it thickly to both lashes. Then came the eyeliner. (I'd only tried eyeliner once, at a Halloween party. Took me forever to wash the awful stuff off.) I felt very uncomfortable, especially since the colors they used ranged only from deep purple to black. Heidi popped open a lipstick tube, holding up several others for me.

"Pick one," she said.

"This is ridiculous—"

"_Pick _one!"

"I'm not wearing that shade of red!" I protested.

"Black, then?" Celeste offered. Heidi giggled beside her.

"No!"

"Come on, Geneve," Celeste said softly. "It's not all that bad. We're not doing this for our own sake, you know."

"Doing _what?" _

Heidi snatched the black tube (titled "Party Night"), smearing it across my mouth. "Aro is worried about you passing customs in both countries," she told me.

"Heidi had the brilliant idea of, well, _changing_ your appearance," Celeste said. She smiled at me. "Believe me, they won't know you _at all." _

I sighed. "That's kind of you, but I'm still Geneve Thomson. My passport proves it, as does my ID."

"No problem." Celeste lifted a wallet in front of me. The photo section was empty, but the passport and all the credit cards were signed for one person: "Coleen Parker."

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Don't ask questions, Geneve," she pleaded. "All you need to know is, she doesn't exist anymore, and _you _have become her."

Heidi shuffled in my closet, pulling out a black t-shirt and jeans. She tossed them at me. "Here. Go become Coleen."

After I finished dressing, they dragged me to the center of the room, and the rest of Heidi's case was unleashed on my body. Bands I had never worn were clasped on my wrists, rings were slipped on my fingers, and a hideous necklace, sporting tiny white studs, was fastened about my neck.

"Feels like a dog collar," I muttered.

"Your ears are pierced, right?" Heidi asked. I nodded, and she quickly threaded two golden hoops into the holes. A diamond clip-on was added onto my right ear, making it look like a second piercing. Celeste tossed a pair of converses at me, and Heidi ran her fingers down the front of my jeans, tearing them with her sharp nails. They stepped back together, observing me.

"I like the hair," Heidi said. She was happier than I'd ever seen her. She obviously liked playing dress-up.

"She's too pale," Celeste objected. "I still think her skin is too pale."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. I don't have equipment for that sort of thing."

"You had everything else," Celeste said admiringly. "You're a marvel, Heidi."

Heidi raised her eyebrows, but smiled grudgingly. "Thanks, hon."

"I hate to interrupt," I said. "But can I have a mirror?"

"Of course!" they said. They led me down to the bathroom, then stepped back as I faced the mirror.

"Oh, God," I whispered.

"What?" said Heidi. "Don't you like it?"

"Um, sure," I stammered. "I look…"

I paused, still in shock. I looked like something from those Vampire Club websites, complete with the black lipstick. My hair was cut jaggedly, although still long, and it fell about my face in strands, greasy with hair gel. It was pitch black. My eyes… I couldn't even see myself in them. They were completely lost in eyeliner, opening wide under pencil-thin eyebrows. My clothes looked old and worn, and there was a purple logo on the t-shirt, bearing some resemblance to a skull, although I couldn't be sure. My arms were covered in cheap jewelry, as were my hands. I looked—

"Terrifying," I finished.

Celeste laughed. "Oh, relax, sweetie. It's only temporary!"

"I hope not," said Heidi mildly. "I rather enjoyed fixing her up." She reached out, jerking my belt to show a little more stomach. "Should we put a ring there?" she asked Celeste.

"No!" I half-screeched. Good Lord, I looked like the teen from hell already.

I let them lead me back, stumbling a little in my new shoes. I collapsed on the bed when we reached my room. "Is this _really _necessary?" I moaned.

Celeste patted my hand. "Of course it is, Geneve. We're not taking any chances."

"Well, I'm off," said Heidi. She'd packed her case already. She reached out, punching my shoulder lightly. "Have a nice trip to America."

"Oh, sure," Celeste muttered, the moment the door closed. "She probably wishes you weren't coming back at all."

I ignored her. What was new?

"I'll leave you to yourself for a bit," she said softly. "We don't have to leave for at least two hours."

I wanted to kiss her cheek, but she kissed mine instead, reminding me of my new makeup. Her lithe form disappeared out the door, and I sighed. I felt awful. It wasn't that I'd been the school nerd, or had anything _against_ such things, but… it was never an important part of my life. My mom and I were not wealthy; not even close. She couldn't afford trivial things like jewelry and makeup, and I had learned to do without them. Aro's gift to me was the most valuable thing I'd ever owned. I touched the blue sapphire, tucked safely under my shirt. No, I had done fine without it. I had watched my friends put on makeup before, taking up to three hours every morning just to get ready.

"_So _not worth it," I thought. It was irritating, not being able to touch my face, or rub my eyes freely.

"Geneve?"

I jumped, sliding quickly off the bed. "Come in, Aro.'

He entered immediately, then froze when he saw me.

"Don't look at me like that," I pleaded.

His mouth turned down at the corners. "What have they done to you?" he demanded.

"I know. It looks terrible."

He laughed—harshly, I thought. "Yes… yes, it does. It's quite brilliant, though, really." He came closer, looking deep into my eyes. "I would not have known you, Geneve."

I touched his cold skin. "I'm still me."

"I know you are, _cara mia." _He traced my face in wonder, shaking his head at the dark, painted lines. "You are twice as lovely without all of… this."

"That's not what the world thinks, unfortunately."

"I don't follow the world, and neither do you."

He took a silk handkerchief from his pocket, wiping away any trace of lipstick.

"Aro, don't…"

"Heidi left you some of your own. It's by your suitcases." He pulled my face towards him. His eyes were mischievous. "Can I not kiss you, my love, before you run away from me?"

My heart burned, radiating heat through my entire body. "Of course," I whispered.

And I forgot about everything—yes, even that horrid black choker, jutting into my skin.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 30: Leaving **

"_His weakness, it is true, led me to entertain doubts _

_as to how he would support so long a journey." _

_(John Meade Falkner) _

I should have known it would be miserable.

There was not a flight to Bangor, where my childhood home was, but Aro somehow managed to book me a reservation to Portland that evening. I could hire a rental car, of course, but until then I had an eight hour flight to look forward to. Being cloistered up among the Volturi had almost made me forget the unpleasantness of modern-day life—plane travel included. I'd always hated them, especially the mortifying effect it had on my stomach, whether taking off _or_ landing.

I sat in the back of coach, staring dazedly out the window. I wasn't looking at the ground (my stomach couldn't cope with that). I was looking at the sky. Soft clouds skidded across the purplish landscape, as if some painter had thrown his brush haphazardly, spreading the translucent white where he pleased. As I watched, the colors changed, morphing into a steadier, muted gold and gray. My artistic eye saw every detail, noted every shade. It was easily one of the most beautiful sunsets I'd ever seen… and I couldn't enjoy any of it.

I missed him.

I was adamant on leaving. That much was certain. Nothing could have stopped me. I couldn't count the number of times he'd asked me to stay, to go to America in the spring. Even Celeste had been worried, although whether for different reasons I couldn't be sure.

"It's snowing in the north now," she pleaded. "Think what would happen if you had an accident, or there was a bad blizzard."

I didn't answer, and she continued. "Just because it's winter, Geneve, does _not _mean tourists aren't still popping up every second. I don't know if Aro can book you a reservation back this year."

That hit a bit closer to home, but I consoled myself, thinking how much more time I'd spend with Mom.

"Come on, Geneve. Just wait a little longer. I hate to think of anything happening to you." She frowned. "I've never seen Aro angry, and I don't feel like finding out."

"I'm going, Celeste. That's final."

She'd handed me my suitcases, not saying another word. Her hug had been a little more painful than I'd expected.

"Coffee, ma'am?" said a voice above me. A waitress stood nearby, brandishing an overloaded coat.

"Just some ginger ale, thanks." I sipped the cool beverage, sighing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my neighbor watching me. She was a small woman, in her thirties or forties. Her blonde hair was heaped up on her head, obviously dyed from the pitch-black roots. Her lips were pursed as she turned to her companion. I couldn't hear what she said, but the tone was clear enough. I'd had my share of disapproving glances when I'd passed through the airport.

I fidgeted in my chair, aching to tear off the stupid bands on my wrists. I felt, and looked like, a complete freak. No wonder they were staring. I turned my head away and closed my eyes.

Seven and a half hours later, the captain's voice droned through the loudspeaker. _Thank you for choosing Gala Airways. We will be approaching our destination shortly. Please be sure to— _

I groaned, trying to see something out the tiny window. It was past one in the morning, and the ground was flecked with infinitesimal lights. I leaned away, feeling tired, cranky, and sick. When I heard the loudspeaker again, it couldn't be soon enough.

_Please buckle your seatbelts and prepare for landing. Thank you again for choosing our Airways. _

"You're welcome," I muttered. "Remind to barf when we get there." The trip had been miserable, as I knew it would. Besides the ginger ale, I hadn't the stomach for anything, much less the standard peanuts and mushy fruit salads. I clutched my armrest as we hit the landing platform. Passengers around me were chattering, while still others dozed. I fell into a doze myself, until someone tapped my arm. I opened my eyes. It was a tiny child.

"You need to stand up," she said softly. "Or you'll be left behind."

I rose slowly, half-smiling at her as I reached for my bags. I saw her mother hurry her down the aisle, gazing distrustfully in my direction.

_God, I hate these clothes. _I lumbered, exhausted, after them, hardly looking forward to what lay ahead of me. As I passed the first row of seats, I saw something that made my heart jerk. A figure was standing there, about Aro's height, with long black hair past their shoulders. I stepped closer, my mouth gaping, when a woman came forward.

"Can I help you?" she asked. She was dressed as a flight attendant.

"No... no thank you." I walked quickly through the door, hearing her say goodbye after me. _Get a grip! _I thought. I was so distracted, I couldn't remember where the rental car station was. A man in the ATM line was kind enough to point me in the right direction. Of course, once I _got _there, I couldn't remember if I had enough money for the darn thing.

"Coleen Parker?" the woman clarified. She looked barely older than I was, with similar dark makeup, so no looks this time.

"Yes."

"Seems like you already have a car on hold," she said. Before I could speak, she continued. "Ah, yes. Here it is. CRV. Black. I'll just go and find the keys for you."

I stood there, relief drowning the confusion. He had obviously prepared for every contingency. The woman came back, handing me the keys, rental slip, and my wallet. "You're set for two weeks," she added. "Don't hesitate to call if you have problems."

_I do have problems, _I wanted to say. _More than you can imagine. _I started to say thanks, but she'd already forgotten me, moving on to the next person in line. I dragged my bags out to the parking lot, clicking the beeper aimlessly in hopes of finding the car. I did, eventually. The bags were secured, the back was shut, and I slid into a front seat smelling strongly of shampoo and new leather. The steering wheel had a covering, too. I leant my head against it, folding my hands listlessly in my lap. Finally, I could cry.

* * *

><p>"<em>Let's dance again, Aro," I whispered. It was three hours until we had to leave for the airport in Rome. My tone sounded depressed, so I said it again, this time smiling at him cheerfully. If only I could bring a similar smile to his face… <em>

"_Now?" he said doubtfully. _

_I took his hands, placing one about my waist. "Yes. Please." _

_He kissed my forehead. "But there is no music, my love." _

"_Who cares." _

_His fingers tickled my palm, taking my hand, and he began to sway me back and forth slowly. Like the first time, I felt perfect in his arms. Whole. As if any mistake I'd made in my life had been mended, and I was reading forgiveness in his dark orbs. They were the color of wine; dark, sweet and sensual. His lips were wine, as well, when I could manage to steal a kiss or two. _

_Aro spun me slowly, creating a brief arc with our arms. "What are you thinking of?" he asked, when I came back to his chest. _

_I hesitate. "I'm thinking… it seems so long ago." _

"_What does?" _

"_Since this all begin. Since we first began to know each other." _

_He laughed softly. "It hasn't been very long, piccola. I should know." _

"_Why? Because you've lived a million years." _

"_Heavens, no. Only a thousand or so." _

_I shook my head. "I still can't envision that." _

"_Geneve, you must grow used to the thought of forever." _

"_Forever," I whispered. It had a hollow sound. "That's a long time." _

_His hands rested on my shoulders, stopping our movement. "Are you afraid of time, Geneve?" he asked. "Because it doesn't matter, you know. It builds and moves of its own accord, oblivious to those who try and change it. It is unchanging." _

_I stared up at him. "But you _have _changed it. You've _cheated_ it." _

_He laughed. "A fact I am not sorry for. What would be the point of being immortal if you only regretted your existence?" _

"_That's what I mean. Would _I_ come to regret it? Would you forget me overtime?" _

"_Nonsense, my dear. You're being ridiculous." _

_I sighed. _

_He touched my cheek. "It is only natural you should have these doubts. Everyone does." _

"_Did you?" _

"_Of course." _

_I sighed again, playing with his crest. A sharp edge scraped my finger, and I dropped it. "Aro…" _

"_Yes, _piccola?"

"_Would you hold me?" _

_His eyes flared brighter, and he held out his arms. I inhaled the warm spiciness of his scent, memorizing it for the days to come. He must have felt me trembling, for he spoke. "You are unconvinced, aren't you?" he whispered. "You do not believe I can love you for eternity?" _

_I didn't mean to say it, but I did, anyway. "You didn't love Sulpicia." _

_I felt him lean away from me, and his icy hand gripped my chin. "Look at me, Geneve." _

_I did so. _

_His face shocked me. He actually looked… tired. Drained. A strand of hair hung in his eyes, and he spoke slowly. "I never loved her, Geneve. I thought you understood. What I did—and what I may plan to do in the future—has nothing to do with love, nor you. Do you understand me?" _

"_Yes, Aro." _

"_We never shared anything but hate, resentment, and might I add, a similar longing for powerful connections. Once I tired of her; once she disgusted me with her black, irrational ways, I lost any previous feeling I might have had. She's plotted against me for centuries, Geneve, but I could not find a valid reason to destroy her." He smiled faintly. "Perhaps one day, I will have that pleasure. But for now... I want you to know that what I did to her, I will never _ever _do to you. Nor, I am sure, will you turn against me. It is not in your nature, my precious one." _

_His eyes saw into my soul, loving me, burning me. "Do you see it now? If you love me at all, you will accept this as a promise."_

_My heart thrummed sweetly. It had been throbbing all the while he'd been speaking, and now I could almost feel it rise in my throat. "I will," I said sincerely. How could I not? _

_A smile lit up his face, and the weariness was erased into love for me. My legs swung up in his arms, me giggling like a child. The room swayed back and forth again, and I thought of anything else but the journey ahead. _

"_I love you," I whispered. My dark angel. My prince. My _"cara mia."

* * *

><p>I awoke, wrapped tight as a cocoon in the hotel sheets. The pillow was wet, as were my hands, pressed against my face. Aro's sapphire necklace, as well as my identification cards, rested on the bureau next to the alarm clock.<p>

Wiping my eyes, I reached up, switching on a lamp. I winced as the light flooded the room. Tears kept starting from my eyes, hard as I tried to brush them away. I thought I'd cried myself out earlier, in the car.

_Yeah, right. _I turned off the light, too exhausted to think further. I'd arrived at the hotel by two-thirty in the morning, and I would drive to Bangor later that day. Now, however, I just needed sleep. Peaceful, restful sleep, free of dreams and anything else that held me in the night.

"Love you," I whispered to the darkness.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 31: Thief in the Night **

"_For the sword outwears its sheath, _

_And the soul wears out the breast. _

_And the heart must pause to breathe, _

_And love itself have rest." _

_(Lord Byron) _

I drove to Bangor, as planned, around eleven o'clock that morning. I felt rested. It was strangely wonderful to be driving a car again, although it wasn't my own (parked in a lot near NYU—no doubt impounded). I actually hummed a little, fiddling with the radio knobs to an oldies station. Despite Celeste's predictions, there was no snow in sight. Rather, the road was flecked with leaves, brushed off hastily by oaks and birches eager to relieve their burden.

Trees. Something else I'd missed. The list was endless, even down to waving at someone who drove past me. It was a bizarre feeling, loving everything I saw, and yet not having those I loved most being with me to share it. I pushed aside pessimistic thoughts, though, and did my best to relax through the long drive ahead of me.

As it happened, it ended up being much shorter than I'd originally planned. Good roads and light traffic allowed me to arrive in Bangor by early afternoon, having driven for only a few hours. I rolled down my window, careless of the sharp breeze, and breathed deeply. I was home. I wondered what Aro would think, were he with me. Could a being, forever surrounded by ancient castles and history, think kindly of my modest neighborhood?

I smiled, turning onto our street. He wasn't coming, so it didn't matter. I stopped in front of the house—that beautiful, little yellow house—and hopped out of the car. It was just like I remembered it, except for the garden out front. The weeds were running wild. I bent down, untangling a smothered amaryllis. Mom never let her garden go unkempt. Maybe she'd gotten worse in my absence, and couldn't make it out of bed…

I ran up the steps. _Coming, Mom. _She always kept a key by the door. There was a crack on the top step, wide but not deep, and it was a perfect hiding place. I dug about inside, pricking my fingers on a sharp bit of stone.

There was nothing there.

"Shoot," I murmured aloud. Then I felt stupid. Why not ring the doorbell first? I rang it several times, even pounding on the door, but no one answered. I turned around, sighing impatiently. I'd traveled all this way. I was half-sick with worry for her. Why couldn't things go _my _way, just _once _in my life?

As if in answer, I heard faint footsteps in the distance. I lifted my head.

There was a woman coming up the cracked pavement, a grocery bag slung over her arm. It was Mrs. Vallery, my violin teacher. I'd stopped lessons at thirteen (Mom not being able to afford it), but she'd remained our close friend and neighbor for years. My heart pounded as I called out to her. This was, after all, my first _real _test. Customs was one thing, but could a familiar acquaintance see past the disguise?

She stopped. I watched her slowly take me in. "You lost, honey?" she said sweetly.

"Not exactly," I admitted. "I'm looking for Mrs. Thomson."

"Sara? Oh, she hasn't been in for awhile now."

I took a long breath. "She hasn't?"

"No. She's up at the hospital. Of course, she hasn't been well for years to begin with, so it wasn't much of a shock to us. Poor thing." She looked closely at me. "But who are you? Are you a relative of hers?"

_Think fast. _"I—I knew her daughter, Geneve Thomson. We studied art together at the university. I heard she went to Italy, but she hasn't responded to my letters, so—"

Mrs. Vallery was nodding sadly. "You haven't heard?"

"What?"

"She's not here. Geneve's been missing for months, honey. I thought everybody knew."

I was terribly worried for Mom, but I couldn't help asking. "She's missing?" I said, feigning panic. "Why? When did this happen?"

Mrs. Vallery sighed. "This bag is getting heavy, sweetie. Why don't you come to my house for a minute? I can make us some coffee."

I thanked her. She waited for me while I locked the car, then we walked off together down the street. She told me her house was only three away from "Sara's," which I already knew, of course. "What is your name?" she asked me.

"Coleen Parker. Geneve probably never mentioned me, since we only met this past semester."

"That makes sense. I'm Mrs. Vallery, her neighbor, but you can call me Julie. Everybody does."

Tears started in my eyes. I turned away, holding her bag while she unlocked her front door. When I was seven, I'd asked her what her first name was, and she'd kissed me, saying the same thing. She had been so kind to my family, even slipping dollar bills in my pocket when Mom was short on cash. She'd helped us feel at home with the other neighbors, and had made us cranberry bread every year for Christmas. And now she was letting a strange girl in her house, disregarding her odd makeup and clothes, just because I needed some help. I wanted to hug her so badly it hurt.

"Set the food on the counter, honey," she said. She bustled about, pouring the coffee mix. I sat down at the kitchen table, trying not to breathe too deeply. The tears fell back again where they belonged. I wasn't going to lose it… not yet.

Julie sat beside me, handing me a mug in the shape of a pumpkin. "Doesn't that necklace bother you?" she asked, pointing at my doggie collar.

"No," I lied.

She shook her head. "Kids these days…" She passed me the sugar. "I only know so much about Geneve, honey, so don't bombard me with questions. Let's take it slow."

It's a weird feeling, discussing yourself while being someone else. I said a silent prayer, thanking Celeste and Heidi. "So… I know that Geneve _went _on the field trip."

"That's right. But didn't you go, too? You said you studied art with her."

"I couldn't. I'd signed up for a summer program." The words flowed from my lips. When had I become such a good liar? "Besides, I've already been to Italy."

Julie sighed. "I'd loved to go, but you don't get much of a chance at my age."

I resisted the urge to pat her hand. I _was _a stranger, after all. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Val—Julie."

She smiled, then sobered again. "Yes, we know Geneve went. Sara told me she received a letter from her probably mid-July. She sounded happy. Her friends were with her. She had wonderful hosts, I heard. Then… she disappeared." Julie shook her head. "I don't know. Sara didn't know what happened. She was frantic."

"She disappeared? Just like that?"

"Just like that. The police questioned her friends, but there was so little to go off of. They'd been eating at a café or something, and she left because she felt sick. They never saw her again."

Her words were barbs, cutting me. "That's terrible," I whispered.

"Yes, it is."

"So she's still in Italy? Or do they not know?"

"It's a mysterious thing, honey."

The next question was the hardest. "Do you think, had she not disappeared, Mrs. Thomson wouldn't have taken ill?"

Julie looked up. Her eyes were kind. "Good Lord, no. It's like I told you. Sara's been fading for years now. She had this coming."

I stared down at my untouched coffee. "I suppose I should visit her. Can you… can you tell me which hospital she's at?"

Julie gave me the name and address, which I scribbled down quickly. I'd never heard of it. The only time we'd needed that kind of care was when I'd cut my arm falling off my bike. Mom had taken me to the nearest hospital, a very small one, for stitches. Why wasn't she there, instead? Was her condition that serious?

"Thank you, Julie," I said, standing up. "You've been very helpful."

"You're welcome… Coleen, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Yep."

She put a sun browned hand on my shoulder. "Funny, but I could _swear _I've met you before. You sure Geneve didn't invite you over her last school break?"

"No, no," I said hurriedly. "We only met last semester." I walked to the door, opening it.

"Coleen?"

I winced. "Yes?"

"If you have time, can you stop by later and tell me how Sara is? The bus systems are murder, and it's getting harder for me to go places."

I smiled at her. "I'll try."

* * *

><p>I drove another hour before reaching the designated hospital. The parking lot was packed, so I wasted another ten minutes finding a spot. I finally parked at a deli nearby. I walked across the street, huddling against the sudden onslaught of cold. The sky had darkened, making it seem much later than three o'clock in the afternoon.<p>

"Watch it!" A man scowled at me as I tripped, nearly colliding into him.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" I slowed my pace a bit, but I still fairly ran through the sliding doors. Despite the deceiving look of the parking lot, there were only a few people sitting in the lounge. I sat down myself, waiting until the clerk at the counter was free.

"First hallway, last door on your left," she said in a clipped voice. I bounced up as the patient walked off, and she looked up at me.

_Good heck, _her eyes said. _This one will have lung cancer for sure. _She even tilted her head, as if expecting a joint to magically appear between my fingers.

"Can I help you?" she asked curtly. Her bun was tight and high, giving her face a drawn, pinched look. It was quite a contrast to the last person I'd spoken to.

"Hi, um… I'm looking for someone. She's a patient here. Do you know what—"

"Name, please," she droned.

"It's Mrs. Sara Thomson. She's been checked in here for a while, I believe."

Her nails clicked loudly on the keyboard. I breathed deeply, trying to calm myself. Why was Mom here? Why hadn't she said anything before? Then again, she'd always hated doctors. The rush, the noise, the inconvenience of medical work. "I'm perfectly fine," she used to say, whenever I insisted she call someone. Maybe she was. Maybe Julie had been mistaken, and Mom was really on vacation… or looking for her lost daughter herself. Maybe I was wasting time standing here, and she was in Italy at this moment.

The clerk was speaking again. "Yes, we have someone here by that name. Are you a relation?"

"Not really, but—"

"Can I have your name, Miss?"

Then again, she might have been wrong. Maybe there _was_ something we didn't know about. And oh, if there was, I'd _never _forgive myself.

"Name?" the woman repeated impatiently.

"Oh, um…" My thoughts scrambled. What _was _my name? "I'm Coleen Parker. Friend of the family. Please let me see her. Is she all right? Which ward is she in?" _Not ICU, _I pleaded silently. _Anything but ICU. _

"I'm sorry, Miss Parker, but only family is allowed. Do you have identification?"

I shoved my wallet towards her. She flipped through its contents, then returned it. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "But this doesn't prove anything. Only family allowed."

My hands gripped the counter, knuckles white. I realized I was crying. "Please," I whispered. "I _have _to see her. Can't you do _that, _at least?"

The tears had the desired effect. A nurse reaching for a stack of papers behind her turned around.

"What's the matter?" she asked, not addressing anyone specifically.

The clerk rolled her eyes. "She's a perfect stranger. Wants to see a patient, but she lacks identification to the family."

The nurse smiled at me. "What's your name, dear?"

I told her.

"Well, Coleen, let's see what I can do for you."

"It's not allowed!" protested the other woman.

"Have a heart, Stella," retorted the nurse. She gestured to me and I followed her behind the counter. She opened a file cabinet. "Now, who is it you're looking for?"

"Mrs. Thomson. Sara Thomson."

"Thomson…" Her fingers fluttered through the alphabetized files. I looked up. A doctor walked past us, his beard bristling like a pine tree. He smiled at the nurse before walking past us. I hated him for smiling. How could he smile, when there were sick people wasting away in every other room? When my _mother _was here, all alone without me?

I closed my eyes, my head spinning. I couldn't take much more of this.

The nurse was still searching. "Thomas…Thomason…Thomson!" She pulled out a folder. _"Sara _Thomson, you said?"

"Yes."

"And you're a friend of the family?"

I sighed. "I know her daughter. She's a friend of mine. I promised I'd check up on her mom for her. Can I please see her?"

The nurse patted my shoulder. "Relax, honey." She glanced at the folder again, then snapped it shut. "She's in room 15. Third floor. I'll go with you."

I thanked her profusely, which she brushed off, and we stepped into the elevator. Upon reaching the third floor, she swung right, heading towards a sign labeled, "Intensive Care Unit."

My heart skipped a beat. "She's in there?"

The nurse stared at me. "Yes. Don't you want to see her?"

I followed her numbly, cursing every step I took. Why the _hell _had I ever gone to Italy? I berated myself in this way until she stopped, leading me gently through a sliding door. "To your right," she whispered. "Come out when you're finished."

I turned the corner. It took only one look, and the tears trickled down my face. I wiped them, not caring when black streaks came away on my hand. "Oh, Mom," I sobbed.

A hospital attendant looked up. I hadn't seen him, standing by her bed in the dim light. His annoyed expression softened when he saw my face.

"Are you a visitor?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Are you a relative of hers, Miss—?"

"Parker. She's my… my aunt." These lies were going to get me eventually. "I have permission…"

"Hey…" He handed me a tissue. "It's alright. I'm glad someone came. It's been awhile since she's had visitors." He shook his head. "Not that she can hear, anyway, but you can talk to her if you want to."

A fist closed around my chest. "What do you mean?"

He looked at me, puzzled. "She's in a coma, Miss Parker. It's not unusual, considering the size of the tumor, but at this stage there's really nothi—"

I walked towards the bed, staring at the shell that was once my mother. I knelt. I felt myself take her hand, and my heart cried out at its pallor, its coldness. What she must have suffered, those long months I'd been gone. The tears ran faster than ever.

I didn't hear the attendant leave. I had eyes for nothing but my mother's face. My fingers tenderly brushed back her curls, as red as my own. I leaned forward, touching my lips to her ear.

"Mom?" I whispered.

She didn't answer. As if she would.

"Mom, it's Geneve. I'm so sorry…" The tears caught me for a moment, and I paused before starting again. "I did go to Italy, Mom. It was beautiful. I wish you could have seen it. I've been safe this entire time. I'll never leave you again." But would she leave me?

_Shut up, _I told myself. I kissed her wasted cheek. "I... I met someone there. He loves me, Mom. He loves me more than I can understand. You and him—you're everything to me now." I wanted to say Aro's name, to whisper it to her, but I couldn't. I felt horribly selfish all of a sudden, sharing with her my happiness, when she was so lost to me.

"Are you listening?" I whispered. "Mom?"

Her bluish lids remained closed. I climbed onto the bed, dirty sneakers and all, and put my arms around her. A moan escaped my lips. I could have been holding a child.

"I love you," I whispered.

I could have sworn I saw her lips move, as if in a smile. I lifted her tiny hand, pressing it against my heart. I pretended she'd moved it herself, and was awake listening to me. It was a sweet, bitterly sad moment. I imagined all sorts of things. I told her stories she had told me as a child. I described Italy to her, avoiding any mention of the Volturi's lair, for I knew that would disturb her. I described how magical the sun looked there; the way it settled into the people's faces, giving them a warm, healthy brown glow. Kissing her forehead, I told her about the Michelangelos and the da Vincian art, knowing how she always shared my interests.

I talked about Aro. I told her how gentle, how sweet he was. I omitted everything related to vampirism, of course, but I hid no other secrets from her.

I don't know how long I laid there; I was only happy we were left alone. I fell asleep eventually, lulled by Mom's soft breathing and the beep of her heart monitor.

"_Geneve?" _

"_Not now, Mom," I said _

"_Geneve, you must get up. I have to drive you to the airport today." _

"_Ugh." _

"_Come on, sweetheart. We'll go buy your favorite breakfast." _

"_Blueberry pancakes?" _

"_Yes." _

"_And croissants with raspberry jelly?" _

_She pulled at my arm again. "Of course. But you need to get up first." _

"_No…" _

"_Coleen? Coleen?" _

I shuddered in my sleep. That isn't my name. Stop calling me that.

"Miss Parker?"

"Go away," I mumbled.

"Miss Parker, you shouldn't be here." The voice was a female's, high and nervous. "Please get up. You need to leave now."

I opened my eyes. An assortment of tubes blurred before me. Liquid oozed through them, disgusting and transparent. I blinked again. How long had I been asleep? It seemed hours…

"Miss Parker!"

A woman stood beside the bed—ah, yes, I remembered now—in a light blue t-shirt and pants. A gauzy material covered her hair. She had a kind face, but at the moment it was creased with tension and panic. Her nails drummed against the bed rail.

"I'm sorry," I said, sitting up quickly. "I didn't think anyone would mind."

Her nails drummed faster. "This is… your aunt?"

"No." I stopped myself. "I mean, yes. Yes, she is."

"Miss Parker, I must ask you to leave now."

There was something wrong about the room. What was it? "Why do you keep saying that?" I demanded. "I was _told _I could be here."

A second figure appeared beside her. It was the attendant I'd seen before. He, too, began to plead with me, laying his hand on my arm. "Come on," he said gently.

"Stop it!" I snapped. My behavior was unreasonable, I knew, but I wasn't leaving just yet. I knelt beside the bed, clutching Mom's hand. She was so cold, poor thing. "I love you," I whispered again. "Do you hear me, Mom? I love you."

"She's her mother?" I heard the man say. "I thought—"

"Just help me get her out." The nurse was frantic. "We can't take care of the body with the girl draped all over her."

_The body. _My eyes flashed upwards, focusing on the box that was the heart monitor. The greenish signals, so welcome to me before, were gone. There was nothing. Not a single flicker.

"Mom?" Panic choked me. I didn't care about my identity anymore.

Again, the man touched my arm. "Miss—"

"Get _off_ me, you idiot!"

I whirled back again, pressing her cold hand to mine; trying to infuse some warmth into the small, purplish fingers. Sound erupted behind me. More assistants were pouring in, talking loudly all at once. There was an annoying beeping somewhere. Hands seized me gently, pulling me back. I screamed, but not because of that. I'd just seen her face… her face for the first time…

"It's alright," they told me. "She had no pain, honey. No pain…"

No pain, I thought, smiling stupidly. That's good. She won't ever have any pain. Never, ever again. Then the doors closed, and I saw the heart monitor in front of my eyes, dead, silent. "No!" I screamed. "No, please God, no…"

"Miss Parker?"

_I'm not Coleen. I'm not Miss Parker. I'm Geneve Thomson, and I've lost my mother. _

"Miss Parker?" The voice echoed soundlessly. "Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

I was slipping. Words swirled around in my brain, each more poignant and stabbing than the last. _Coma… malignancy… a tumor… _Words that meant nothing to me, and yet they meant everything, because they had killed my mother. Murdered her silently, like a thief in the night.

The young assistant was holding my arm, calling my name. "Miss Parker?"

And I'd let it happen.

I flung off his hand, stumbling down the hallway in a blind rush for the exit. Nurses moved away suddenly, clutching clipboards to their chests. All I saw were their wide eyes as I shot past them. Someone called my name. I ran past the lounge, past the horrid woman at the desk, and escaped into the welcome darkness of the parking lot. The chill of the night had transformed to ice, and I fell more than once as I stumbled towards the deli. It was closed, but my car was still there. I dug my keys into the lock. It stuck. My fingers were freezing. My body was even colder. Somebody started screaming. Loudly.

"_Shut up!" _I shrieked. A couple walked past me, staring. I ignored them, finally wrenching open the door. The car, the seats were cold. I was sick of cold.

I crawled into the back seat, tossing my keys to the floor. The fist—that horrible, imaginary pressure—was suffocating me. The screaming wouldn't stop. I covered my ears, begging it to go away. Then I started to cry, and it suddenly hit me. _I _was the one screaming.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 32: Seeing Things **

"_I am to wait, though waiting so be hell…." _

_(Shakespeare; Sonnet 58)_

I lay in the hotel room, inert as a statue. The television set was a distant buzz in the background, soothing the violence of my pain. Colors flashed and whirled. A murder in Portland, an insane man suing his own wife, a kidnapping…

The world. Such a beautiful place. I turned over on my side, facing the back of the sofa. It didn't matter, really. People died every day. Children lost their parents. I was one among millions.

"… concerning the disappearance of Geneve Thomson, a student at NYU."

I turned over. _No. _I was in too much pain. But I couldn't look away. I reached for the remote, pressing up on the volume control.

"Miss Thomson, along with a group of students from the art department, left for Italy early this summer on a trip that was to last two weeks. Miss Thomson and her two friends were at a café when she left by herself, complaining the heat was bothering her."

All at once, Mel's face was on the screen. Her eyes looked swollen. "She looked terrible," she said. "We wanted to go with her, but she said no. I honestly thought she'd be back in five minutes."

Jordan stood behind her, one hand fidgeting idly by her side. Their faces were worn out in worry for me.

"After two hours of searching, the police were notified, and the girls' host family and professors were questioned. They claimed they had nothing to do with her disappearance. It's a puzzling situation, and an even more frustrating one for the police, searching in two different states and two countries for the missing girl. Trafficking is suspected, although the police deny any—"

I pressed the power button, flinging the remote control at the screen. I couldn't take anymore. A tear splashed onto my hand. I wanted to go home. I couldn't stay here another minute.

_You can't go home, _a voice whispered. _They're sure to look there. _

"It's been months. There's no one there."

_You don't have a key. _

I lay back on the sofa, pressing a cushion against my face. I'd been arguing with myself for days. Home or not, I couldn't stay here. One more night and I would be forced to leave, saving my remaining cash for food and other necessities. Italy was out of the question, and not just emotionally, since I'd already wasted my return fare on lodging. I didn't even have enough to get to New York.

"You've made a fine mess of things," I whispered. Blurting "Mom" in front of all the hospital staff. Why didn't you tell them your real name while you were at it?

I cried silently, tirelessly. I had longed to see her, but now that I had; now that I had the pain, I didn't want it. I didn't want a single tear left in my system.

Hours passed. I rose, gathering some dirty dishes from the table. My side ached from weeping so much. I glanced at the stove clock. It was so late. But how could I sleep?

"_You _never sleep," I cried to the emptiness. _"You _never suffer." For the first time in my life, I regretted being human. Not the fact I was born—no, there's a difference. I regretted denying Aro's true gift when he offered it to me. Would that pain have shrunk deeper, lessening in significance, had I consented? Would I have mourned Mom less, yet still kept my love for her in my heart? Were _all _emotions, _all _feelings vanquished through immortality?

I smiled. My reflection on the stove top frightened me. "It's no good," I mumbled on. "I promised you, anyway, didn't I? I did everything for you."

Yes, I had. Passed through hell, flame, blood for him. And now that it was done, now that I'd promised what was my soul… I could not even have what I longed for most. I had lost my mother. I had lost my life with her. Without her, the memories were lost as well; muted and gray like an artist's winter landscape. I felt so alone, so like a little child…

He wasn't here. Mom wasn't here. My panic rose within me, stifling whatever words I'd been about to say. I sank to the floor, kneeling in the fragments of a shattered plate.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Aro<strong>_

There was a time when I could endure the solitude of this life; this endless existence as the world changed a million times over. Yes… there was a time. What changed it all?

The girl.

I laughed to myself, startling Renata beside me. Stroking her dark curls, I felt a fierce desire well up inside my body. There had been someone else I'd touched; someone whose hair blazed with a fire equaling my own passion. I saw her eyes again, blue and soulful, and stifled a groan. They had nigh destroyed my angel; darkening her curls and smearing that accursed makeup on her face. The same face that waited sweetly for my parting kiss… her tears running down in black…

I looked down at Renata, barely containing myself. "Go find Felix, my sweet," I said softly. "Tell him to meet me in the counsel room."

She bowed low and disappeared through the open door. As soon as I heard her footsteps fade, I was out of my chair, gliding down the hallway to my dead sister's room. It was empty, of course. No one had entered since Geneve's departure.

A robe lay on the bed, crumpled from when she'd flung it off in preparation for the journey. I lifted it to my face, letting the silk caress my skin. Her scent had always driven me mad. It was stronger than most humans, teasing my body when I would search for her, but as sweet and unassuming as her soul.

I moved away from the bedstead, ignoring the indents my hand had left in the wood. Didyme's painful mark had been all but erased by now. This room was Geneve's. Everything in it belonged to her.

Yes, even myself, though I would never tell her. Even a monster had his pride.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. It was Renata. "My lord, Demetri is waiting for you. He was with Felix when I found him, but I thought you would prefer Demetri instead."

"You know me well, sweet one," I chuckled. "No, I don't want to see Felix, actually. Not yet."

I entered the dark room moments afterwards. Demetri was brushing his hair back carefully with one hand. Vain, as always. I beckoned him forward.

"You sent for me, my lord?" He bowed gracefully.

"Yes." Now that I remembered why,the anxious feeling intensified. "I have a rather peculiar job for you, Demetri. I have no doubts as to your loyalty, but I'm afraid Felix's temperament may complicate things."

"Why not send me alone, my lord? I am completely at your service."

I smiled. "No, I think Felix needs something to clear his mind a bit. It will do him good. You can handle him, I presume?"

"Of course."

"Excellent." I turned away, biting my bloodless lip. Demetri was loyal. He would carry out everything perfectly. But I _had_ to send Felix as well. It wouldn't do to stir up more unrest in the coven, especially with flames already sparking between me and my darling wife.

I chuckled at the heavy sarcasm. Oh, how I loathed her. Loathed every inch of her, from the ancient bitterness in her eyes to the hands that would have torn my sweet angel apart piece by bloody piece…

_Geneve. _

I closed my eyes, feeling the desire again. My sharp teeth gritted as I spoke.

"Send Felix to me."

Demetri bowed again, closing the doors gently behind him. I leaned back against my throne. I couldn't understand my stupidity; my cursed weakness at letting her go. I was a selfish being. I wanted those I loved near me, beside me.

My eyes opened. There was some commotion out in the hallway, a sound of screaming. I rose to my feet. Renata appeared beside me, her fingers clutching my cloak.

"What is it?" I asked her harshly. "What is going on?"

"Oh, Master…" she whimpered.

I had an urge to strike her, which was rare enough. My longing had made me irritable. "What _is_ it?" I demanded.

She didn't respond. There was a rush of air, a strong assault of perfume, and Renata lay twenty feet away, buckled against a marble pillar. A hiss stung my ear, whirling dark behind me. I lashed out, catching a wrist as white and merciless as ice.

"Sulpicia," I said, very sweetly. "You do us an honor."

I grappled with her writhing body, yanking it unceremoniously to the floor. Froth bubbled from her lips, red with fresh blood, and she hissed at me again.

"You have something to tell me, no doubt?"

"I _hate _you!" she shrieked. Her eyes were rolling in their sockets. "You _shame _me!"

I was a strong immortal, hardened by centuries, but so was she. We wrestled with each other until I pinned her back again. "You flatter me, my love," I said softly. "I imagined far worse for you."

She snarled, something Greek and incoherent. She sprang forward, knocking me backwards. My head slammed against stone, and I felt her nails dig viciously into my throat. Somewhere behind me, Renata screamed.

**This is going to kill some of you, I know. This last part with Aro was originally not intended to be in the story, but I hadn't the heart to take it out. :) **


	14. Chapter 14

**Here you are, my dear ones. Merci for the many reviews last chp! Yours, especially, Dani, was ever so sweet. But I'm afraid you'll be in suspense a while longer! **

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><p><strong>Chapter 33: Savior <strong>

"_Follows you around _

_And you wake up soaking wet _

'_Cause between this world and eternity _

_There is a face you hope to see." _

_(Lena Marlin; "Unforgivable Sinner") _

It was a Wednesday, and I was broke.

All my luggage sat on the pavement beside me, forgotten. I sat, smiled, thought… even cried a little. I was overdue by one week. He would be looking for me, no doubt. His guards were excellent, Demetri especially. Celeste often told me of his keen senses; his ability to locate his prey. Only this time _I _was the prey; the naughty girl who'd fled from her master into yet another inferno.

_Stop it, _I scolded myself. _Just stop it. You're only making it worse. _

A car paused above me, screeching a little on the icy road. A woman spoke to me, trying to make her voice heard over the engine. "You ok?" she shouted.

I nodded. Yes, perfectly fine, thank you.

"Do you need a ride somewhere?"

My eyes glanced past her, squinting through the frosted windows. Two children sat in the back seat, their wide eyes fixed on me. I smiled at them, then looked back at their mother. "No, no, I'm fine. Please don't trouble yourself."

She opened her mouth, ready to protest.

"Mom." A small voice piped from the back. "Mom, I'm going to be late."

"We're not going to be late." She rolled her eyes. Her lips were puckered as she studied me again. "There's a humanitarian center a couple blocks away," she said slowly. "They can help you, if you need it."

"Thank you."

She rolled up the window, and the car pulled away from the pavement. I watched it drive away, then promptly rose, dragging my remaining suitcases with me. I'd discarded any unfamiliar clothes or makeup Heidi had packed for me (hopefully she wouldn't resent that _too _much) and kept whatever I truly needed. I'd washed the grime from my face four days ago, tossing the mascara tube in the trash. I was too inexperienced to know how to remove it properly, so my fair skin still showed trails of it, like branded tears, sticking to my face. My hair was worse. Hadn't Heidi said it was washable dye? Or had I imagined it? Whatever the case, it was fading slowly, giving my head the appearance of a disheveled cat's fur coat. I'd last seen a mirror yesterday, in a subway bathroom. I wasn't me, which was a relief. Still…

My stomach growled loudly. A scent of hamburgers wafted towards me from a nearby diner. I seldom ate junk food, but I would have eaten anything at the moment. I hadn't eaten in three days.

Cars flowed past me. More than one passenger turned and stared at the scraggly girl on the sidewalk. Torn, I briefly considered hanging out by the back door of the restaurant, waiting for the chef to take pity on me, but pride—and something else—took over, and I moved on. A bench wavered in front of me. I scraped my wrist sitting down, not finding the seat properly.

_Ouch. _I must have been dizzier than I'd thought. The seat was slick with frost, still remarkably fresh for a late evening. My palm came away slowly, sticky with blood and leftover snow. My fingers stroked at it absently. I was still thinking about the "something else." Anyone else, less shaken by grief, would have construed it as pride, or a stubborn willingness to torment myself. It was neither, nor was it a punishment for abandoning Mom. Every event of the past two weeks—the moping, the tears, the final payment for my final night at the hotel—had been done unconsciously. I was no more myself than Mom was, buried quietly in the town cemetery. It was as if I _had _become Coleen, a silent teenager enraged with the world, which she expressed so perfectly with her clothes, hair, and makeup. They were strangely appropriate, her actions.

A man walked past me, leading a child by the arm. She was blubbering, clearly upset by not getting her way. He glanced at me, and again I saw that look: Are you ok?

_Yes, yes. Couldn't be better. _I went on rubbing my hand. It was so cold outside. Maine could be murder in the late fall months, even such a reputably cheerful month as October. I blew on my fingers. They were hurting terribly, but the pain was good. Pain meant I wasn't frostbitten.

I sat up suddenly. I hadn't realized I was lying down. Ice stuck to my cheeks. _Watch yourself, Geneve. Do you want to suffer _that _much? _

"I don't know," I whispered aloud. "Didn't _she?"_

My stomach growled again. I sighed. The bus stop was only a few feet away. Maybe if I just rested a bit, I would remember where I hid that extra dollar. Maybe, just maybe, if I could sleep, I would forget the gnawing monster inside of me. Maybe…

I closed my eyes.

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><p><em>Cold. <em>_Bitter, bitter cold. Cold dreams… cold thoughts… I could feel it. It was eating my fingers, my thumbs, my legs… Oh, it was all _over_ me! The night seemed like a live thing, pulling me with it until I collapsed into a still more restless sleep._

_Then, in a moment, my fears were realized. It _was _alive. The cold was sliding up my body, twisting my head from side to side. My lips parted in trembling gasps. It caught hold of my wrists, shaking me until my blood flowed wearily to the surface. _

"_Stop it," I moaned. _

_A low murmur answered me. How cruel. It was laughing at me. I pulled my hands away angrily. I was only half-asleep, but sometimes dreams give you strength. I pushed at the Cold, striking the sliding motion with which it rocked me. _

_My fist struck home. A low hiss answered me, and I struck again. Death-like fingers grabbed me, shaking me, twisting me again. A voice whispered in my ear. I stopped moving. It was oddly sweet, that voice, and felt rather pleasant. I didn't want to wake up, suddenly. _

_But it was telling me to. "Get up," it asked. "Please get up." _

_The "please" broke me. I started to cry, and the tears froze on my neck. "I'm sorry," I said, still half-asleep. "It's so hard… so very hard…" _

"_Damn it, Geneve! Don't make me force you!" _

_The voice was so beautiful. I sighed, sinking into waiting arms… _

_My head snapped back. It hurt. "Geneve!" it hissed. "So che potete sentri! I know you can hear me!" _

_I opened my eyes, just to see if you could do that in a dream. A face materialized, blurry through the thickly-falling snow. When had it begun snowing, I wondered? I was dreaming, but I wished I was awake. Then I could see more clearly. As it was, I could only hear his voice. _

Whose _voice? I began to cry again, and I fell. _

_Nightmares descended. I was running, running… from what? I couldn't see anything. There were fiery brands under my feet, and the pain was a dizzy haze. I ran blindly in the mist. Dead faces appeared, and I saw Celeste's hollow eyes among them. She called out to me, but I couldn't stop. The fire was scorching my feet. _

_Somewhere in this chaos of agony, the cold began to recede. Warmth flooded through me, and my body seemed to rise by itself and sink back again to the floor. The smell of smoke dissolved into a familiar, sweet scent that caused me to look up. I wondered if I was still dreaming. A dark figure stood there, its cloak rippling down in black folds. As I watched, it pushed back its hood. _

_I felt a burst of happiness so violent, I feared it would destroy me. I arose, still dreaming, and mist surrounded us both. _

"_Geneve..."_

_He wasn't shouting now. His voice wrapped around my name like a caress. _

"_I am here, Aro." _

"_Come with me," the voice continued. _

"_I can't." _

"_Don't you love me, Geneve?" _

"_I do." Tears poured down my cheeks. _

"_Then come." _

_My mother filled my eyes for a moment and I closed them. The pain took my breath away. I felt as if I would fall away, back into… into what? "No..." I whispered. _

_Aro gripped my arms, shaking me. _

"_Geneve." _

"_Yes, Aro?" _

"_Open your eyes." _

_I looked up. Everything was red; red as blood, as a jewel. I was looking into his eyes. Suddenly, his arms were around me. I clung to his stony body. My fingers wove in his hair, wildly pulling him closer. _I love you, I love you..._ There was no need to speak it. He read my heart as well as my mind. _

"_Good-bye, my dear." His hands gently untwined me from his neck, and pushed me back. "Come soon." _

"_I will." _

"_Ti amo, cara mia." _

"_Speak English…" I sighed. _

_The blackness swallowed me. _


	15. Chapter 15

**Forgive me, my loves. I was having some slight writer's block last week, and I am still very busy, as some of you know. Most of the next three chps of cette histoire are half-completed, though, so they're shouldn't be much of a delay in updates. Don't forget to leave your thoughts! **

**Stay on ff! I'm uploading "Bleed" soon. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 34: All I Have <strong>

"_You look in my eyes and I'm _

_screaming inside that I'm sorry…"_

_(Evanescence; "Forgive Me") _

I had fallen into blackness, and it was to blackness I awoke. My eyelids felt as if they'd been frozen shut, and there was a painful, crackling sensation as I opened them. No, it wasn't dark. Not entirely. There was a light shining somewhere. I rubbed them with sensitive fingers, then tried again.

Pain. Blurred images. I strained my eyes, but it grew darker. "Oh, no," I gasped. Had I gone blind? Had the cold, in some inexplicable way, caused me to lose my eyesight? I stretched out my arms, groping in a panic. "I can't see!"

Something rustled off to my left, and a strong light struck my face. I cringed. There was a light noise, like someone breathing. It came very close, almost to my ear. I drew back further. "Don't!" I cried out. I hardly knew what I was saying. A combination of nightmares and bad experiences had wound my nerves tighter than a fist. "Please don't hurt me!"

"Geneve," said a voice patiently.

I froze. My arms fell limply to their sides, then rose again, searching in front of me. I found his face, all silk and frost, coming to life under my fingertips. I squinted. The light was so strong…

"Turn if off," I whispered.

An invisible hand obeyed me, and I reacquainted myself with the darkness. In a little while, I could see his eyes, glowing like pricks of blood under black lashes. His face was glowing, too, white as a new-fallen snow. A smile touched my lips. He had not changed. I must have lived centuries since leaving Italy, yet _he_ was perfect. As always.

"You're here," I said. "It wasn't a dream."

He placed his large hand over my small one. "No," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you. I was frightened."

"I know, _piccola, _but you're safe now."

"Did you come alone?" I asked. "Is Celeste here with you? Where are we?"

"Which question do you want me to answer?" He smiled, but only slightly. He seemed to be struggling with some violent emotion. "Geneve, at what point were you going to come back to Italy? Did we not have a bargain, or is my memory failing me?"

My hands slipped from his face. I glanced around, avoiding his eyes. I was lying on a couch in the living room, swathed by pillows and blankets. It seemed Aro had taken every material in the room and covered me with it. I sighed heavily. "I was… held up." My words sounded stupid, even to me.

"Held up?" he said curtly. "By what? Transportation? I provided you with everything, so you would have plenty of time to spend with your mother. Are you saying you didn't see her?"

"No, I…" Why was he opening these wounds? "I _did _see her, Aro. I didn't have enough money…any means to get a flight home."

"Well, what did you do with it?"

He was growing angrier. My own irritation was rising. This couldn't be just a matter of losing money. "I spent it," I told him. "All of it. Every penny."

His eyes hardened. "Where is your mother, Geneve?"

I closed my mouth.

"Where is she? I brought Demetri with me. He is the one who found you, lying in that pitiful bus shelter." He touched my silent face. "Tell me where she is, and we will find her."

My voice cracked. "She's in the morgue. It's on the corner of 1st and 5th street, near Marshall Hospital. They've probably wheeled her out now."

There was a pause. Then, "Geneve?"

I opened my eyes. A few tears escaped, disappearing into my hair. When he saw them, all frustration left his face. He knelt softly by my side. I could see him much better now, despite the tears. He ran his fingers along my head, stroking the tangled, dyed strands. "She is dead, then?" he said carefully.

I nodded.

"I am sorry."

I wiped my nose. "It's ok."

"Was she in great pain?" he continued gently.

"She was, but not… not anymore. She died unconsciously."

"Then why these?" he whispered. His hand touched my wet face. "You should be grateful she is gone, relieved of suffering, rather than unhappy. Imagine her as she was, Geneve."

"You weren't there," I sobbed. "You didn't see."

He slipped his arms under my back, pressing me to his chest. I tried to pull away. I didn't want to get tears on the fine fabric of his vest. He let me go. "Oh, Geneve," he sighed. "What am I to do with you?"

I sniffled, turning away from him. I looked hideous enough already; why should he see me like this, with my eyes and nose running shamelessly?

His breath was soft behind me. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said tenderly. "But I revert to my previous question: when were you going to return? You _promised_ me, Geneve."

His insistence pained me. As if I didn't know. "I was not myself," I mumbled. "I'm _still _not."

"You could recover just as well, if not better, under my care than you could here." Frustration bit his tone again. "You are not being sensible, my love. The police are looking for you. Did you know that?"

"They've been looking for me for months."

"That's not what I mean." Aro gripped my shoulder, twisting me around to face him. His fingers danced on the remote, flipping through channels until the news flashed onto the screen. "Have you seen this?" he asked quietly.

I was in too much pain to answer. There I was, disheveled and screaming, beside the very room where I had left Mom. The assistants had heard my cries, as I feared, and showed the tapes to the police, who had already been checking up on my relatives now and then for reports of me. The hospital cameras had caught everything.

Aro was silent beside me, but I could only imagine what he thought of those images. My grief and anger spoke for itself. It was one thing experiencing the pain, but it was quite another to sit there, _watching _myself screaming like a lunatic. A camera caught me by the slide doors, tearing past an elderly couple, and that was it. The television switched off and I turned into Aro's chest. It was horrible.

"Have you see that before?" I whispered.

"Once," he answered. I felt better when I heard the pain in his voice. I was not the only one, at least, who suffered. "They had not yet shown the video footage, though," he went on.

"Then you understand? You know why I couldn't… couldn't function, or…"

Aro touched my lips. "Hush. I do understand… now." A soft sigh passed his lips.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I only wish…" He looked down at me. "I only wish you had had _some _thought for me, even though you suffered such a loss. Am I always to come second in your love, Geneve?"

He was jealous. I couldn't believe it. It was well I loved him so much, or I should feel pained by this reference to Mom. I kissed his frozen cheek. "You and my mother are everything," I whispered sincerely. "I made a stupid judgment, that is all. I should have come straight to you, Aro. I should have made better choices. But neither of you is more important than the other. Were _you_ to die, Aro…" I winced a little. "… I would mourn you just the same."

I looked up at his eyes. The pain was as deep as my own. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

His face softened. "For leaving me, or for not coming back?"

"For everything."

Aro chuckled, lifting my hand to his lips. He looked as if he were about to say something, but a knock sounded at the door. "Who is it?" he called, not taking his eyes from me.

"Room service, sir," piped a feminine voice.

Aro rose, pressing his lips to my cheek as he did so. I wiped any remaining tears, listening for his inaudible footsteps. The door opened. I could hear the maid speaking. Her accent was very strong; most likely Spanish. They conversed for a few minutes.

"You're too kind," I heard Aro say in his sweetest voice. There was a pause. Then I heard a muffled sound, like someone biting back a cry, and something fell to the floor. A few moments passed, and Aro returned to my side. I saw the blush on his lips, red as a fresh wound, but didn't question him. I hadn't the strength.

"Will you eat now?" he asked softly.

"Sure."

A bowl of warm liquid appeared in his hands. He fed me, much as I tried to protest. It was some kind of broth—leeks, maybe—and sinfully delicious. I ate it all, ignoring the groans of my pinched stomach. He offered me some apple slices, but I couldn't eat anymore.

"Thanks," I whispered.

He laid his cold hand on my forehead. "You are beautiful, _mia amore." _

I laughed, choking on the fruit. "Oh, please. I look terrible." Laughter turned to tears, and I drew my knees up to my chest. "I'm such a wreck," I moaned.

Aro brushed them away. "Don't cry, love. I'm going to take you home."

"Home? I have no home."

"You do now." He lifted me easily in his arms, carefully gathering up my legs. I heard the door open and turned my head. Felix was sitting against the wall, staring off into space. Aro kicked him, knocking him over.

"Get up," he snapped. "We're leaving. I trust you and Demetri took care of everything?"

"Yes, my lord, although that idiot human in charge wouldn't leave me alone about identification. I almost tore his worthless head off and stole the tickets, before—"

"—before you exposed our kind to the world, like the fool you are," Aro interrupted smoothly. "But Demetri stepped in, as usual, and negotiated, didn't he?"

Felix grunted. "Yes, my lord."

Aro shook his head, laughing softly as he carried me downstairs. "Well, I'll say one thing for our kind," he remarked. "We actually value things _other_ than mere monetary gain. This century is the greediest I have seen, in all my years…"

I brushed his silken hair from my face. "You forgot to pay the bill," I said nervously.

"No worries, love. I gave the maid a fine sum for her services. It's in her pocket."

I didn't say anything.

It was late evening outside; I must have slept longer than I thought. A black SUV waited beside the hotel for us. It was sleek and well-kept—much nicer than anything you could get at a rental station. The windows were darkly tinted, protecting those within from sunlight, glare… and too-curious onlookers.

Demetri stepped from the driver's seat. I recognized his dark, curly hair. He rolled his eyes when he saw me. "Splendid," he said sarcastically. "As if this trip weren't difficult enough without bringing a half-starved human along."

"Shut your mouth and get in the car," Aro ordered.

His guard quickly obeyed. Felix followed him, getting into the passenger seat. Aro lifted me into the back, disregarding the seatbelts, then slammed the door behind us.

"_Pronto," _he said sharply.

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><p>Aro held me for the entire time it took to reach the Portland airport. I sighed, remembering how long it had taken <em>me<em> to get down to Bangor… then I noticed the speedometer behind Demetri's shoulder.

"Um… don't I need a seatbelt?" I whispered to Aro. "He's driving like a maniac."

"I heard that," Demetri chuckled.

Aro laughed with him, stroking my hair with one hand. "Even if we _did_ crash, love, you would be perfectly safe in my arms."

I smiled, then closed my eyes as another wave of exhaustion overtook me. My body was tired. Tired from all the trauma and sickness and heartache. I suddenly had a desperate desire to get out of America; go back to where I'd spent those long months, and try to forget the pain I had caused my mother in her final hours. _Gosh, I miss her._ The tears flowed silently, uncontrollably. _Why did this happen? _

Aro spoke, and his voice was just a breath on my face. "Geneve, if you don't stop, I don't know how I shall bear it. Try to sleep. It will ease the pain."

"I can't…" I said brokenly. "I keep seeing her, all alone, without…without anyone… Oh, _God,_ why wasn't I there?"

"It wasn't your fault."

"That's a lie."

I saw Felix punch the radio button. Giving us some privacy, I suppose.

"Geneve, if you must blame anyone, blame _me. _Were it not for me, you would have gone home months earlier."

I looked at him wildly. "And then what? I would have never seen you again… never…"

"You can't have it both ways, darling," he said tenderly. "Your mother would have died regardless."

I stared at him for a moment, tears in my eyes, then my arms wrapped around his neck in a stranglehold.

"I love you," I sobbed, digging my fingers in his hair. "I love you so much…"

Aro's head turned, finding my lips amidst the tears. I returned his kiss with all the force left in my body, letting him cradle me closer.

_He's all I have, _I realized with a stab of pain. _He's all I have left now… _


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 35: The Destroyer **

"_You don't have to see_

_What I turned out to be…"_

_(Tarja Turunen; "I Walk Alone")_

I did not recognize Italy when we arrived. Winter had spread her silken gown, shielding the streets and gentle towers from my eyes. Aro laughed at my expression as we exited the terminal. "You silly child," he chuckled. "Forever thinking _Italia _is all sunshine and roses."

"I haven't seen much of it," I reminded him.

"So you haven't." He cold lips brushed my ear. "And you may see its beauties as much as you please now."

We stood there for a moment, simply enjoying the sparkling night. I longed to return his kiss. I wanted to. Mom's face had been haunting my eyes the entire trip, and she stood there now, her blue gaze sweetly sorrowful. I let Aro hurry me into another car, barely noticing my surroundings.

"Only an hour or so," he said to me. I could feel him watching me. Was my mood so terribly explicit? I was _trying _to be happy—for him. It was difficult, though, what with guilt constantly plucking at my sleeve. I turned to Aro and smiled. "Great."

I fell asleep in the car. Figures. When I awoke I was cranky, sore, and regretful I hadn't seen the entrance Aro had chosen. I hadn't exactly gone to the Volturi _conscious, _I thought, looking back. There were probably a dozen different routes, for all I knew.

Demetri brushed past me, toting what remained of my luggage. The stone walls reared around me, familiar in their whispers of flickering torchlight. Aro had disappeared for a moment. I pressed my cheek to one wall, although it smelled of nothing but dry mortar and lantern oil. Surprisingly enough, I _did _feel at home. This was _my _home now; where _I _belonged.

"Oh, Mom," I whispered. It wasn't long before a tear kissed my eyes, inciting my remorse. I felt ashamed. It was like I'd betrayed her, running away like I did.

_Stop it, Geneve, _I scolded myself. _You're hurting no one but yourself. What's done is done. _

What's done is done. Oh, the sick finality of it.

Aro's voice echoed down the hall towards me. He was speaking to Heidi, giving her instructions of some sort. She glided with him towards me, her high heels as ostentatious as ever. I leaned away from the wall. The tears were dashed away, my smile was fixed, and I turned to greet him.

"Are we ready?" I asked brightly.

Heidi was looking at me carefully. I was shocked to see pity in her eyes. Aro touched her shoulder, nodding to her, then reached out for me. "Come," he whispered.

I curled into his arms, worried. Why was that look on his face? "Is something wrong?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid. There has been a slight… complication." He chose the word delicately.

"What?"

He hesitated. "Perhaps it would be better to show you—"

"No, Aro. Please. Tell me what is wrong."

His eyes softened. "It will hurt you, _piccola." _

"What could possibly hurt me more? Just tell me."

"Celeste… is dead."

So much for confidence. "Dead?"

"Murdered, in fact." He sighed. "Geneve, I am sorry…"

I gestured at him dumbly, feeling the cold stone against my cheek. I was caught between a mixture of grief and insane serenity. Dead, dead, dead… Did _everyone _have to die? I felt like all my heartstrings were snapping slowly, the last breaking when I'd seen Mom's sunken face. I could already feel the blood pounding, struggling to keep up with my wild emotions.

Aro pulled me away from the wall. "It was a misfortune," he said firmly. "You could not have prevented it, any more than _I _could have."

"I know… I know…" Repetition. Numbness. Grief. "I don't want to hear… not now. Don't tell me now. Let's just go…"

He followed me silently, letting me get control of myself. We passed down a familiar hallway. I stopped, wiping at the tears. There was my room. I stepped forward, eagerly reaching for the knob…

"No," Aro said softly, steering me away. _"This_ way, Geneve."

"My things," I mumbled. "My clothes…"

"They matter not. You will be staying with me."

I stared blankly. "Is that necessary, Aro?"

"For now, yes."

I wasn't stupid. My soul was bleeding at the combined sorrows, and yet there was something in his face, something he wasn't saying. "Aro, what's wrong?" I turned towards my room again. The door looked different. I stepped closer, trying to—

Stone gripped my arm. _"Don't, _Geneve."

I laughed bitterly. "Don't? The worst has already happened to me, Aro. I'm fairly invincible now." I pulled away from him, and he let me. I felt his eyes on me, watching as I reached for the familiar etching in the knob.

It fell off in my hands.

I turned, gouging Aro's expression, but there was nothing. The knob rolled at my feet. I pressed my hand to the scarred wood of the door. Was that the difference? It opened, faltering on two weakened hinges, and I looked inside to utter chaos.

A terrible smell filled my nose. The smell of smoke and burnt wood. My eyes teared, as some of the fumes still lingered. I blinked, gazing before me in shock. My bed was shattered. The four posts lay in splinters on the floor, as if someone had picked them up and then smashed them together with incredible force. Any fabric in the room, including the carpet, was razed to shreds. I stepped carefully, avoiding the shards of glass from my vanity mirror. The vanity itself was on the other side of the room, crushed against the fireplace. Ashes streaked the razed carpet. Everything was either burnt, torn, smashed, or destroyed. Whoever or whatever had done this had not been merely vengeful. No, it was not the work of vengeance. It was the work of the insane.

Something moved beside me. I jumped back in terror, but it was only Aro's guard, Renata. She had dust on her hair and clothing. Her small hands were filled with pieces of wood, tossing it into a pile in the corner. She murmured an apology, stepping past me.

I felt Aro's hands, cold on my shoulders. "I did not want you to see this," he whispered.

"Who did this?"

"Your face is white as chalk," he said. He smiled a little. "I thought you said you were past all shock?"

"Don't tease me. _Who_ did this?"

He took my hand. "Come with me."

I walked into his chamber minutes later, still stunned by what I'd seen. Aro lifted me, settling me into a velvety cushioned chair. "Are you warm enough?" he asked.

"Aro, that—that couldn't have been… It wasn't Jane, was it? She would never dare—"

"No, she wouldn't," he interrupted. He stood by the fire, gazing down at the livid embers. "There are others, however, who would."

"Who?"

"Sulpicia, _cara mia." _

_Sulpicia. _My heart thudded against my ribs. If she would do _that _to my belongings, there was no telling what she would do to me. Why in Heaven's name had he brought me back here?

Aro smiled at me reassuringly. "Don't fret yourself, love. She will not hurt you. She will not hurt anyone ever again."

My voice cracked. "She's…"

"Dead. Quite dead."

"You killed her?"

Aro laughed, startling me. "No, I did not kill the demoness. But oh, God, I wanted to."

I heard him again; what he'd said before I left for New York: _"Perhaps one day I will have that pleasure…" _I closed my eyes for a moment. My heart was still pounding. "How… how did it happen?"

"It was several weeks after you left us, and a day after _I_ left to find you." A wicked expression scarred his face. "She would not have attempted it in my presence," he muttered. He glanced at me. "Much is unknown as to what happened. It is not difficult, however, to deduce the circumstances. Your friend had word somehow…as always… of my wife's mental state, and her recent encounter with Jane. You know of what I speak, my love?"

I lowered my eyes. "I remember."

"I thought you wouldn't forget. I did not foresee, however, the maddened lengths to which it would drive her." I heard a soft growl from his throat. "It is well the guard were not near your chamber that night… and yet, most unfortunate. They might have saved your friend."

He kicked a log with his foot. "Apparently the foolish girl got it into her head that Sulpicia was looking for you, so she decided to distract her from the knowledge you had left by using herself as bait. It was in the early hours of the morning, I believe. Sulpicia came into your room…"

Tears rained down my face. "Yes?"

"You are not well, little one," he said tenderly.

"No, no… please. Tell me."

He sighed. "She was mad, Geneve. Delirious. I have seen such lunacy among our kind before. They are treated with little tolerance in our world. She spared nothing of your belongings, and even less of—well, you saw the state of your room."

"And Celeste?"

Aro's eyes softened. "She was in the way, _piccola._ That is all."

With unerring force, the image of my wrecked chamber came back to me. There had been ash. Ash on the rugs, the tables, on Renata's thick hair…

"You said… Sulpicia was dead?" I barely breathed, waiting for his reply.

His eyes were cruel. "But of course. By flame, as is the fate of some immortals."

"But how could—"

"Will you force me to recount it?" He looked terrible, suddenly, in the firelight. "You do not possess the senses, the acuteness of a vampire, my love, or you would have smelled it. The sickening smell of burning, raw, marble flesh. The putrid stink of ash. Suicide." He laughed. "I should have known the devil had it in her."

His words struck me. _Burning wood, burning flesh. Hers _and_ Celeste's._ It was another terrible bargain, another decision in which I'd had no say…

Aro was close beside me. "You asked to hear it," he whispered. "But she is gone, Geneve. Gone forever. You need not fear anymore."

"No fear," I mumbled. "But she's dead…"

"No," he chanted in my ear. "No more."

He was tucking me in his bed; the bed I had only lain in it once. The lap of luxury overwhelmed me, as always. I felt the silk sliding up my legs, bared by some mysterious intervention, and the soft cloud of pillows beneath my head. The stain of tears and mascara was wiped tenderly from my face. My fingers, still sensitive from being half-frozen, were placed into a basin of something smelling of irises. I bore through it patiently, with the tolerance of the physically and mentally exhausted. My heart seemed to pant as well, until soothed by wintry kisses.

"I will guard you," sang a velvety voice, "with all that is in me."

I nodded to the darkness. The sleep was drugging my senses. My lips were being brushed by something sweet. "Thank you," I whispered back. But who would guard me from nightmares?


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 36: Hurt **

"_I don't have all the answers to your sad prayers _

_But if I could, I'd give you angel's wings." _

_(Yanni; "Almost a Whisper") _

Those were the hardest days. I didn't miss the sun. Rather, I welcomed the darkness. It was easy to do, buried as everyone else was in the Volturi's castle. It gave me time to think. Much more time than I wanted.

I'd always thought that Pain was the most selfish, since it takes from us all we're able to enjoy in life: happiness, love, delight in simple pleasures. But I was wrong. It's not _Pain_ that's selfish, but _us, _the sufferers. Grief becomes our worst enemy, because while Pain is accorded to each individual, Grief can spread like a wildfire, affecting those we hold most dear even if we don't wish it. It's a terrible feeling, dark and destructive. And yet we take refuge in it.

_Wow, Geneve, _I thought numbly. _What a philosopher you've turned out to be. _I was sitting on the rooftop where Aro had once led me, only now it was ablaze with sunshine. I blinked in the strong light, missing it… hating it…

"You don't have to stay out here," said a soft voice behind me.

I turned. "Why don't you join me?"

"I don't wish to interrupt your solitude."

I smiled bitterly. "I have no solitude. I'm never alone, however hard I try."

He was silent, and I realized suddenly how he may have interpreted that comment. "I meant my mother," I said quickly. "Not you, Aro."

"I know, little one."

I shaded my face with my hand. He was still hovering in the dark doorway. I reached towards him. "Please?"

I had seen him in the light, of course (although rarely), but it still felt like Adonis\himself was kneeling beside me. My skin and hair came alive when he touched me. I was reflecting.

I sighed a little to myself, clenching his fingers. _God knows why the damned are so beautiful. _

Aro pulled me onto his lap suddenly. His lips tickled my ear. "And yet they have nothing to the angels."

"You were listening."

"I only hear so much, _piccola. _I must gather what I can."

"Haha," I said dryly.

He chuckled. His slender hand rested below my shoulder bone. Listening to my heart. "Still in low spirits?" he asked gently.

"You can tell that from my heartbeat?" I meant to tease, but it was a pitiful jest.

Aro turned my face in his hands. "It's in your face, your lips…" His own crimson mouth twisted. "…and your eyes. Such sad, sad, blue eyes. Like two lost pieces of heaven."

I turned away. "You read me well, my lord."

"Oh, don't use that formality," he said impatiently. He paused, watching my face, then tried to distract me again. "And _my _eyes, clever one? What do you perceive in mine?"

I looked up reluctantly. Diamonds leapt off his skin into the glittering orbs, making them harder than ever to read. "I see nothing…. nothing I want to see."

His marble face hardened. "Meaning?"

"I cause you much pain, Aro. I know that. It's enough grief to last a lifetime."

The sun kissed his eyes, turning them garnet. He touched my cheek. "Stop this, Geneve," he said. "You're only hurting yourself."

I buried my face in my hands. "Why remind me?"

His hands were icy on my face, a stark contrast to the warmth. He was lifting me, pulling me gently into the comforting darkness. I was sunburnt, and the day was waning to a close. "Careful," he said suddenly, before I tripped on the staircase. The door shut behind him, dead bolted, and he helped me make my somewhat clumsy journey back to his room. I didn't protest when he began carrying me. I heard a door shut somewhere. He was laying me on his bed as before, and the familiar scent of irises settled over the room. I didn't like it this time. It seemed dry and stuffy compared to the heavenly aura when he bent over me, his raven tresses brushing my shoulder.

"Ouch," I mumbled. I heard water dripping, and then he touched me again, laying cool cloths over my red skin.

"I sometimes forget…" he said slowly, rubbing my shoulders. "…how _very _quickly your kind can burn." He kissed my cheek. "Quite careless of an ancient, don't you think?"

"I suppose so."

"Stop it, Geneve," he said sharply.

I opened my eyes. "What?"

"Pretending you're listening, when I know you're only thinking of her."

"Which one? My mother or Celeste?"

His red eyes bored into me. If he didn't look away soon, I was going to cry. I finally made the decision myself, turning my face into the pillow.

"Look at me, Geneve," he said.

"I can't."

There was a long pause. I heard the soft splash of water again, then felt him change the cloths. His touch was so tender. My desire not to weep was swiftly turning pointless. A tear fell past my nose. I sniffled, trying to muffle the noise.

His hands froze. "Are you crying?"

I didn't say anything. To do so would betray me. His fingers grasped my chin, and I was forced to look into his eyes. "Why?"he whispered. "Why are you crying?"

"You know already."

"Good God, Geneve. Is this how you prefer to live, by suffering?" He bent his head, and I felt his lips touching my throat, catching the remaining tears as they fell. His tongue was very cold, soothing to the slight burns on my neck. It felt wonderful.

"Don't you ever cry, my love?" I asked, my voice breaking.

He sighed. "Never."

So I cried for him, huddling tight against his chest. It seemed forever before the sobs finally abated, dying down to a few pitiful sniffs and whimpers. He handed me a dry cloth, not speaking as I blew my nose. I felt terribly guilty. Guilty for my intense pain, and terrible because he was seeing this weaker side of me.

"You're blocking me again," he said softly. "Why don't you relax?"

I was "blocking" him on purpose. "You needn't feel my pain, Aro."

"Oh, but I want to." He cradled me closer. "Immortals never feel enough pain, _piccola. _What humans despise most is one of our greatest setbacks. We don't _feel _enough."

"And I feel too much." I laughed weakly. "No one's perfect."

I felt him tense above me, and I knew what was coming. "Not now, Aro."

He groaned, pushing me gently from him. "Such a stubborn child... Why are you fighting me so hard, Geneve? I offer you freedom; freedom from pain and loss, and you reject it. What am I to do with you? I cannot watch you suffer."

_Then don't, _I nearly said, but held myself back. "I don't know."

"Tonight," he whispered. His eyes were intensely red, focused on me. "Please, little one."

"What's more important to you?" I demanded wearily. "Which do you _want? _My love or my soul?"

"Both," he whispered. "I want both."

Something split inside me. I was being caught from all edges, slowly pulled away from myself. I was dizzy with grief. Numbly, I reached up, yanking my collar back from my throat. "Do it, then," I gasped. "For God's sake, just do it. I don't care."

"Geneve…"

"You want my soul?" I sobbed. "You want it? Then _take_ it!"

His eyes flashed. "Don't tempt me, Geneve."

I clenched his hair in my fists, pulling his rigid face down towards me. "Please…" I sobbed. "Now, before I change my mind. There's nothing left for me."

Strength coursed through my limbs, but it was nothing to his. His fingers, crueler than iron, pushed me away, pulling himself free of my grasp. He walked slowly to the door.

"Aro!" Tears stung my lips.

He turned. "I cannot do this, Geneve," he said quietly. "I can't be near you, beside you, if you tempt me in this way."

"But I thought you wanted—"

"You to join us against your will?" He shook his head. "You are fooling no one, my love, least of all me. You know as well as I that your promise was merely that—a promise. It was a way for you to see your mother, and you succeeded." He appeared suddenly before me. His hands brushed at my tears, tracing past my lips. "I longed for you," he whispered. "My whole being went mad with longing. Now you are returned to me, and your eyes are empty, desolate. You don't want immortality."

_But I'd do anything, _I wanted to scream. _I'd do anything for you. _But I _couldn't_ now. Not when the grief was still so fresh…

Aro's eyes were flickering, searching mine in an agony of silence. "How long will it take?" he asked. "Mourning is not healthy, Geneve, whether to the body or the spirit." He smiled sadly. "Look at my brother."

I pictured Marcus' face, gauntly drawn with shadows. It was too similar to Mom's, and I stifled a sob. "I know."

"Then grieve, if you must," he said. "But don't let it possess you. She wouldn't wish you to be unhappy."

I covered my face. "Stop talking about her. Please."

Aro kissed my forehead. "Forgive me, _piccola." _He waited, as if expecting me to speak, but I didn't move. "What may I do for you?" he asked finally.

"I just want… I need to be alone. Please, Aro."

I felt him rise, standing above me for a moment. I couldn't look at him. "Very well," he said softly. I couldn't tell from his tone whether I'd hurt him or not. God knows I didn't intend to. _Please, please let him understand. Please… _

"You will want some time, I am sure," he was saying. His voice came from the far end of the room. "If you want me again or wish to talk, you need only open the door. I'll understand."

I must have nodded or said something, for the next minute he was gone. I huddled in my chair, horribly lonely. _But that's good, _I told myself. _Loneliness isn't the worst of it. Imagine what _she _suffered through, wasting away under the gaze of doctors, while her daughter was— _

I jumped up, filled with a violent desire to hit something, anything. I wanted to claw my skin until the blood ran. I wanted to _hurt. _Maybe then the pain would stop, bled out from my aching system…

"_I'll understand." _

My eyes gazed blindly in front of me. Since when did Aro compromise? If he wanted something, he would have it. No exceptions. I knew this as well as any member of the coven. Since he and I had been together, I had seen him doing things for me; acts of kindness I would never have fathomed on our first meeting. He had softened overtime, and it was all because of his love for me. But _this?_ This acceptance was something I did not understand, and because I didn't, I was more afraid than ever. He could have changed me so many times—why didn't he get it over with? Why was he so beautiful, so darkly angelic, when there was so much hurt and pain elsewhere? My mind was alive with these thoughts, but there was nothing but grief to stop them. Pain and grief.

My fingers dug into my hair, tearing the black, disgusting strands. No wonder Aro was worried. No _wonder _he couldn't see me anymore. I couldn't see myself.

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><p><strong>I hope I'm doing ok, my dears... Please tell me you understand Geneve, and why she's acting in this way. PLEASE. <strong>

**Thanks for still reading. Review! **


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 37: More than Once **

"_All changes, even the most longed for, have their _

_melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a _

_part of ourselves. We must die to one life _

_before we can enter another" _

_(Anatole France) _

Two days later, I awoke to a gentle tap on my door. "Come in, Celeste," I called hoarsely.

A dark face appeared. "It's me," said a soft voice. "Renata."

The grief attacked me again, rushing in from all corners. There was no escaping it. I was awake, and determined not to lose my composure again. I forced a smile. "Hello, Renata."

She glided to the side of my bed, bearing a heavily-laden tray. Scents swam up from the cluttered dishes, taunting my nose and stomach with raw flavors. Renata took in my expression and hastened to explain. "My master's wish," she said simply. "He says you have treated your body very ill. You need nourishment." She set it onto my lap. "Eat up."

My hunger vanished as quickly as it'd come. How could I find pleasure in anything, after all that had happened? "I'm not hungry."

"Nonsense. You're skin and bones." She took a spoon in her delicate fingers, lifting it to my lips. _"Eat." _

"I _can't!" _Tears gathered in my eyes. So much for composure. I pushed the tray away. Liquids slopped in their dishes, spilling a little onto the metal. I lay down again, turning my back to the little vampire. She didn't understand. No one did.

I heard a soft sigh. "He said you would do this," she said. "However, I'm to stay with you until you eat every bite, even if I have to force-feed you myself." An icy finger tapped my shoulder. "You won't make me do that, will you?"

I kept my mouth closed, but my stomach gurgled traitorously.

"Come now," she said. "You must be starving."

"Please leave me alone."

She sighed again. "I told you already. I can't. Aro's word is law. I love him too much to disobey."

I turned over, meeting her eyes, so large in her childish face. "You… love him?"

She smiled. "Like a father. He _is _my father, for he created me. He is everything." She reached out, gripping my hand. "That's why I like you, Geneve," she whispered. "Because _you_ are everything to _him. _You see him the way I do… the way no one else ever can." Her eyes saddened. "But you waste it."

"What?" I said, staring at her.

"I cannot be everything to him, Geneve. I adore him, yes, but I am merely a guardian. What he finds in you he lost with his mate long ago. He is lonely." She gazed at me imploringly, and I thought I saw a tear in her eye. "You mustn't tell anyone I said this, but… oh, Geneve. If you only knew the love he has for you!"

My heart was straining inside me. "I know," I whispered. "But how can I be there for him, being all he wants me to be, when there are so many others who have suffered?"

"He _is _suffering!" Her hand nearly broke my bones. "I beg you, Geneve. Do not abandon him. Not now, when you both need each other so much."

_She's right… _I sat there numbly, hating the salt of my tears. She handed me a tissue silently. I blew my nose. My hand was bruised by now, but I grasped hers as I leaned forward. "Renata, you have to help me."

"I've tried, Geneve. You must choose your own way now."

"No, no. It's not that. He—Aro has asked me to join the coven. To give me immortality. What should I do?"

The jewels in her eyes flashed. "Join him," she said softly.

"But—"

She stopped me. "Geneve, how could you even consider it? It is not a vague offer he's making." She smiled, her face beautiful. "It is a gift. The most priceless gift our kind can give anyone, besides our eternal bond as a mate."

"You won't regret having me?" I whispered.

"Heavens, no." She hugged me. "Make it right," she breathed in my ear. "A heart can be broken more than once, even if it has stopped forever."

She left me, merging into the shadows outside. As I crept slowly through the huge meal, I felt a terrible sense of guilt and apprehension rise inside of me. Had my pain blinded me so? I still grieved Mom with all my soul, but… hadn't I already given some of it away to _him? _A soul can be torn even as a heart can, however we try to deny its existence.

I had taken myself from Aro. I would give myself back. That evening, as the fire was dying low, I crawled out of bed. The door was hard on my weak limbs, but I somehow managed. I left it wide open, letting it the cold air. My body collapsed back in bed, too exhausted to move further. Renata was right. I _had _treated myself terribly. The thought made me cry a little, rolling over to face the wall. Would he even _want_ me, my body stripped of needed fat, and my eyes swollen from endless weeping?

Just thinking this made me cry again. I rolled over wearily, begging my mind for sleep.

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><p>He came, much sooner than I'd anticipated. It only went to prove more of what Renata had said. I had just drifted into an uneasy doze when a cold pressure soothed my waist, and even colder fingers brushed at the faded tears on my cheeks.<p>

"Geneve?"

One moment he was just beside me, then my senses blurred, catching his scent even more strongly. I reached for him, crying, almost at the same time he reached for me. We sank softly under the covers, a beautiful tangle of pale and snowy flesh. I felt his lips caress my throat, gliding up to my forehead and back again.

"I missed you," I whispered.

His eyes melted, crimson fire. "As I missed you, little one."

I smiled blissfully, letting him press me even closer. He was so cold… so very cold. His icy lips rested on mine; tentative, as if not knowing whether he was welcome or not. I bit back any of my previous fears, answering for him. My tongue forced into his mouth with a fervor that surprised me, considering my humble beginnings. His purr of delight was sweeter than anything I'd ever heard. He settled himself above me, keeping a vise-like grip on my waist. I danced inside his mouth, growing reckless.

"_Arrestilo," _he moaned. _"Arrestilo, non, cucciola mia._" He sighed heavily._ "Ah…io manco, il mia amore…" _

His ripple of Italian continued, as sweet and sensual as the kisses he returned to me. I understood nothing, yet I think I comprehended him better than I ever had. I even mimicked him a little, whispering garbled words in his ear. He chuckled at my efforts. His chest was bare in the dim firelight, though I didn't remember him removing his jacket. He tried to find my lips again, his love overwhelming, but fresh moans broke out as I kissed his silvery skin. "Geneve…"

Discovering pain often leads to pleasure. He was half of my soul. I had admitted that already. I traced over the finely-toned muscles and throat, missing them like Winter misses Spring in all her glory. My joy broke a thousand-fold, mingling with his suffering passion. I had no need to "bleed out" my pain, nor to suffer. He drew it out of me, as a vampire draws blood. I began to whimper again. There I'd been, hiding under all my agony, when just touching him made it so simple.

"Why are you crying?" he whispered.

My lips trembled. "Nothing… it's nothing."

Aro bent his head, kissing me. "You are lying," he accused gently. "You cannot hide from me anymore, _cara mia. _Your mind belongs to me… as everything else belongs to me."

Hearing him say that made me ache even more. "Yes," I whispered back. "I belong to you." I touched his face. "I belong to you."

Our lips met a second time. His dark head fell back against the pillows—ebony on white. It felt wrong looking down at him, being in power. _He _was my master. _He _was my prince, my dark lord. Just looking at him was enough to fuel my remorse. I blessed Renata, gratefully and secretly.

"Have you no kiss for your lord, then?" he asked, watching me.

I smiled, resting between his legs. "You were listening," I accused. I pressed my cheek to his abdomen, inhaling the sweet, sultry scent of him. I had pushed his limits so far already, but… I was weak. I loved him too much to stop. Sighing, I kissed the hard bone in his waist. My fingers trailed up his chest, grazing over the small, snowy nipples.

Aro rose beneath me, halting my teasing of his body. He gripped my hair. "I'm always listening," he breathed in my ear.

"I only regret you cannot _truly_ hear me."

"I have missed your mind too much, precious one, to forget its secrets."

"Nor its sorrows?"

He smiled at me, very sweetly. "Nor its sorrows."

The pleasure I had thought so wicked seemed unbearably sweet now. It was true, although I'd taken forever to realize it. Mom had died unhappily, yes, but a death far less painful than what the doctors had expected. Why would she want _me_ as miserable, watching from wherever she was, when all she'd done in life was try and make me happy?

Aro tugged at my chin; dark, impatient. Yet another who wanted to make me happy. So I tried harder. I pushed aside my grief, wincing only a little this time.

"Yes," he sighed, his eyes ecstatic. "Yes, my darling, _ma bella…" _His hand crept lower, hitching against my abdomen.

I stifled a gasp. My hands caught his with difficulty. "Not tonight, Aro," I whispered.

The darkness in him shuddered. I was tormenting him. "You will not deny me forever?" His voice was low and strained.

"Just not tonight." I laid my head on his neck. "I want you here, to hold me. This is all I need… for now."

He sat up, pulling me with him. My nightie was a little mussed, torn from his impatient hands, but he stopped to please me. I did not, however, miss the lust in his eyes. His teeth bit slowly through his bottom lip as his hand moved through my hair. I slid the coverlet in between me and his chest. His skin was just a _little _too cold.

"And why this refusal?" he demanded suddenly.

I sighed. "Aro…"

"Are you trying to tell me something, Geneve? Is it to be saved, perhaps, for some special occasion? Help me to understand."

I felt his fingers knotting in my hair. His restrained passion tugged at me, making it difficult to resist… "There is no special occasion, Aro. If you wish, we can tomorrow… tomorrow night."

He said nothing, but his touch grew gentler. It must have been enough. I breathed in time to the humming in his chest, much more at peace with the world than I'd been before.

"I love you, Geneve," he whispered.

I faded off blissfully. He'd spoken English this time… perhaps the first.

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><p><strong>Review! ^^<strong>


	19. Chapter 19

**THANK YOU, H.I.M. **

**There's translations below, for some more _unfamiliar _phrases. Review, review!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 38: Beautiful in Red <strong>

"_Won't you die tonight for love…?" _

_(H.I.M.; "Join Me in Death") _

I never again said to Aro, "Change me."

I had already promised him my soul. This promise had been abused, perhaps, but I would fulfill it nonetheless. There was nothing else to say, except ask silently for the forgiveness which he just as silently returned. So I said nothing. It was only until later the following morning that I realized what he was planning.

"Good morning, love," he said softly, planting a kiss on my cheek before escorting me upstairs. I had woken in his bed (again), and I felt as reluctant to leave that room as ever. I scarcely could see a hallway or artifact without being reminded of Celeste and the horrible trauma that had occurred in the past few weeks. It literally took all I had to stop myself from going back to my depressive state.

Aro was busy for most of the morning. Little as I understood the nature of his work, I knew he had neglected it in caring for me. He allowed me to follow him about, echoing Renata's shadow, but I remained for the most part inconspicuous. Caius, especially, was the last person I wanted to see. No worries there. He ignored me with all the sagacity of a pro. Renata was friendly, though, and helped me through the long, torturous hours of the day. By early evening, Aro turned in his chair, searching for me.

"Thank you, Renata," he said, waving her aside gently. She left, casting a smile in my direction.

"Are you finished?" I asked him.

He took my hand, leading me from the room. "Don't be impatient, my sweet. I waited long enough for _you." _

"I know." I tried not to look at his eyes. They burned with an eagerness that unnerved me. Every now and then, even in the midst of important proceedings, he had glanced over his shoulder at me, still with that strange, unfathomable stare. Renata hadn't seemed to notice. Like a vampire, she took everything in due course. Nothing her master did surprised her.

"Are we going somewhere?" I asked, a trifle nervously. I didn't recognize the hallway he was leading me towards.

He smiled down at me. "Nowhere you are unfamiliar with."

"It must be. I don't remember this at all."

"My pet, there are many ways to my chamber, very few of which anyone knows about. This is merely one of them."

He walked on, saying something about a statue we passed, but my thoughts were quiet and numbed. So this was it. He was only being evasive because he didn't want to frighten me. And what did I have to frightened of? I knew nothing about the process—less than nothing…

I smiled at him, trying to listen, but I couldn't. With each step we grew closer, and the term of my life was shortened a little more. It was a terribly morbid way to look at it, I knew, but—

"Aro?" I blurted suddenly.

"_Si?" _We descended a small staircase.

"I—I think… may I go to the restroom?"

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "There is one built next to my quarters, Geneve. Don't you remember? You may bathe and do whatever you please when we get there."

_When we get there. _Hot and cold flashes were shuddering up and down my skin. I scarcely knew what I was feeling. Fear? No… no, not quite. But then _what,_ for gosh sakes?

We were there. Too soon. Aro opened the door for me, gesturing with a smooth, white hand. "After you, _mio cuore," _he whispered.

I felt trapped, timid, embarrassed. Just like each time I'd been with him, only three times worse. I could have kicked myself. _Why _was I freaking out so much? I trusted him with my life. That was all I needed to know. _And _I had promised him this already. It was his decision when to do it, not mine. I needn't worry about anything… anything at all…

"I'll—I'll be right back," I stammered. I fairly lunged into the bathroom. My knuckles turned white on the sink's edge. Yes, I _had_ forgotten he had one. It was beautiful, with crimson and white towels hanging neatly by the tub and crisp, immaculate rugs on the floor, but I had no time to admire it now. I was too busy keeping myself in one piece. _Breathe… oh, please just _breathe…

The door opened. I jumped, bashing my wrist against the tap.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I should have knocked."

"That's fine," I said. Gasped, actually.

His arms came around me; beautifully, wonderfully supportive. "Are you all right, little one?" he asked, very tenderly.

I looked up at him in the mirror's reflection. His eyes weren't hungry anymore. The fire still lurked there, of course, but they were flooded with a warm shade the color of garnets. He had fed more than usual tonight, I noticed suddenly. The hysteria built up again, squirming in my stomach.

"Let's have a bath," he said softly, pulling me away from the mirror.

I nodded. "Ok."

He switched on the water, then began removing his clothing. I turned, quickly stripping except for a cami and underwear. _You'd think I would be used to this by now, _I thought, mourning my infernal modesty. I brushed my teeth while the tub filled, not even daring to look up at the mirror's reflection. He might be there, watching me. I combed my hair, relieved that the black color had finally begun to fade, then turned 'round again, shivering in my skimpy clothing.

My heart almost stopped.

Aro lounged gracefully, like the Greek legend Zeus, with his white arms spread out on either side of him. The water rose a little past his waist, yet it did nothing to mar his glorious perfection. He looked quietly up at me. I wondered if he felt what I did—that small string tugging at my heart. Immortals were denied hearts, I knew, but that didn't prevent them from _feeling. "We don't feel enough," _he'd said. Yet his eyes were an open contradiction…

I gave him my hand. The tub was large enough to fit both of us, and I curled up beside him in the glowing heat. I giggled a little, realizing that he, too, had not entirely stripped. Was it to comfort me, I wondered?

"Stop thinking," he whispered. His eyes were rolled back, the lashes kissing his face. The heat couldn't touch his skin, yet he appeared to bask in it.

"I was thinking of _you,_ my love."

"You will have ample opportunity for that later. For now, just relax…"

I obeyed, or at least tried to. It _did _help, actually. The knot of unease unclenched a little, and I was able to breathe more freely. Lying there beside him, I felt perfectly safe. It became a mantra in my head: _You are safe. He loves you. You are safe… _It was so peaceful and sweet, this feeling.

Several minutes passed, ten or fifteen, and he shifted. "That's enough," he said softly. "I don't want you falling asleep." Before I could protest, he had drained the tub, pulled me out of it, and wrapped my shivering body in a warm, fuzzy white towel. He took another one for himself, lifting his clothes from the floor.

"Dress yourself," he told me. "Something simple. I'll wait for you."

He chucked my chin, then closed the bathroom door behind him. The heat had numbed my senses, so thankfully I was less prone to panic. I realized he'd placed some of my bags behind the door, perhaps earlier, and I hurried to dig through the folded piles of clothing. Someone had already thrown out my Goth costume (for which I was grateful), leaving a few pairs of jeans, a skirt, blouses, and assorted underclothing.

_Something simple. _I was about ready to give up in despair, when I saw something gleaming under the pile of jeans. I pulled it out carefully. It was a white dress. Sleeveless, yet just touching my knees. I pulled it on. It was by no means a provocative thing; rather, I looked more innocent than ever in the mirror. My reddish curls flamed against the white, and my eyes took on a brighter hue. The dress had no design. It could easily have been confused for a nightie. But… it would do.

I took a long breath—much too long, since it allowed me to think—and opened the door. The light in the bathroom had blinded me; I couldn't see a thing. I switched it off, allowing my eyes to expand naturally in the darkness. The fire grew more visible, then the various articles of furniture and so on. The bed was to my left. Someone had made it up neatly, erasing any sign I'd slept there. There was something scattered across the coverlet—bits of cloth? I peered closer. No, they were petals. Rose petals. Some had fallen to the floor at my feet. Their delicate aroma eased my senses, helping me relax a little more. I lifted my head. There was still one more thing to find.

"Aro?" I called softly.

"I'm here, my love."

I looked back at the fire again. There he was, reclining in a chair, his body clad in a soft black robe. I expected to find him watching me, but he was lost in thought. His graceful body leaned against the red plush of the chair, one arm draped casually over his knee. His head was tilted back, lips parted, and his dark eyes were closed. I drank in the sight of him, forgetting for a moment my anxiety. God, this man was beautiful. It wasn't a rough, masculine beauty, nor a soft elegance, but both of them combined. The lines of his body were as harsh as they were graceful—hidden only by his loose, inconspicuous clothing.

Aro opened his eyes, finding me. "Why do you stare, _cara?" _ he asked.

"Because you're beautiful."

He chuckled. "What a sweet opening statement." He rose. "Come here, so I can see you."

I stepped into the firelight, letting the flames creep over my body. The grandeur of the bed loomed just behind me. Aro walked towards me, almost too slowly. The smile on his face didn't falter, but I saw his eyes darken as he raked them over my dress. "White," he remarked. "You are predictable."

"Oh… well, it was the only one I could find, so…"

He said nothing. His eyes burned through the flimsy satin, and I saw his fists tighten slightly. To ease my frantic heartbeat, I turned, looking again at the petals strewn across the bed. My eyes fastened on a small table, the one he'd used before to soothe my sunburns. There was a medium-sized bottle on it, unlabeled. A crystal glass was set next to it.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Morphine, my dear."

My heart rose, sticking in my throat. "For—for the pain?"

"Yes. It will relieve it."

"Completely?"

He smiled sweetly. "No, unfortunately. I'm afraid your rite of passage will be much like everyone else's here."

I suppressed a shudder. It was definite, then. This was the first time this evening we'd spoken so openly. So I played along. "Do I have any choice as to… to _how_ I'm changed?"

He raised a mocking eyebrow. "Do you have a favorite method?"

"The least painful is preferable."

He laughed, shaking his head. "What happened to the defiant little girl who swore to me she could easily become immortal?"

"That wasn't courage. That was stupidity." My bravado faded. "I don't know if I can do this, Aro."

"You can, Geneve, and you will."

"But—"

He flashed before me, touching my lips. "Not another word," he whispered. "You have nothing to fear, _piccola. _Tonight is _our _pleasure. No one else's. Fear is immaterial."

"Alright then," I said, trembling. "If you promise it won't be thatbad—"

"Ah, but, Geneve," he interrupted softly, and his eyes grew darker with every word. "By the time we have begun, you will be _begging _me to continue."

Whether he meant that as a consolation or not, I wasn't sure. "Ok," I whispered.

Aro smiled. He walked past me to the bureau by the bed. His fingers fluttered over the candlesticks, extinguishing them all until there was only one left burning. He looked at me, the smile still on his face, and pinched out the flame. There was now only one source of light left, and that was the fire. The rest of the room undulated in swimming darkness, tinted here and there by a glow that threw laughing shadows on the walls. I stood alone, the fiery heat at my back. Waiting for him. Aro glided slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. As he came closer, I gathered up my hair, resting it on my right shoulder.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

I blushed. "Helping you. I thought you'd like—or is the right side best?"

He laughed darkly. "Suppose I do not _wish _to bite your throat? Suppose I find something… _far_ more pleasing?"

Goosebumps prickled as his breath stung my face. "That's your choice, Aro."

He caressed my collarbone, still chuckling. "Ah, my love… you are so submissive. I have yet to grow used to this."

"Used to what?"

His teeth sparkled. "A willing victim."

I shuddered. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. It makes everything seem so… so _sinister._ As if_ I_ was the sacrifice."

He kissed my bared throat softly. "Oh, _piccola. _There is more than merely one type of victim."

"No…"

"You think I'm lying? Think on it. Are not the romantic figures of history victims? And what of all the characters in your precious novels, with their whispered secrets and torturous, hidden trysts? Do _they_ not fall prey to their lust? They are victims to _each other,_ my darling; as I am to you, and you likewise."

His lips traveled along my jaw. I tried to speak. "Then… then _you _are my victim, as well?" The word sounded so dark on my tongue. It hung in the silence, a curling flame.

He laughed. "Always."

As if his lips weren't already wrecking havoc on my heart. Again, the thought of me being in power—me, the pitiful human, having the upper hand—was faintly ridiculous.

"Pitiful?" he whispered. "Not for long, precious one."

"Alright," I said shakily. "Then let's… let's…"

I cried out, startled by the sudden cold pressure of his body against mine. _Let's get on with it, _I'd intended to say. Desire and fear washed through me. He already _had, _for heaven's sake…

The dress did not last long. I'd restrained his passion enough. It crumpled to the floor, and my body shivered against the bedstead as he pressed me close to the hard wood. There was not a place he did not touch; sucking and kissing by turns until I writhed in his embrace. I couldn't even remove his jacket for him. I wasn't coherent enough for anything. Wave after wave of desire hit me. I began to moan loudly; embarrassed, but desperate to relieve the aching.

"Aro," I begged. "Aro, please…"

Another tortuous kiss, and the bed's canopy loomed above like some dark heaven. I caught sight of his face. That was all I needed. "Aro!" My body lurched.

"Ah…" he breathed, sighing as the first evidence of desire flowed uncontrollably into his palm. _"__Dialo di più.__," _he sang sweetly. _"Ah, si… cosi bella, ma vittima." _I saw him lift his hand, and a cold, agonizing pressure stroked slowly up my swollen flesh. I blurted words incoherently, begging him to stop, even though I didn't want him to. He slithered up my body, cold as Winter's kiss, and nestled his handsome face deep in my neck. I closed my eyes, trying to recover from the recent assault on my senses. Aro shifted, humming against my warm skin.

And then… he bit me.

I screamed, flinging my head back, nearly bashing it against the wooden bedstead. It felt terrible, like someone skewing two dagger points in my skin. But the pain was eclipsed the next moment as he reappeared, kissing my trembling lips with all the tenderness he was capable of. His mouth felt warm as honey.

"Be still now, love_,_" he breathed. I heard him panting, his long hair in my face. Something hot trickled down my neck and chest. It touched my inner thigh, burning with an opulent, sweet sensation. I opened teary eyes. It was blood, of course. _Mine. _

"Aro—" I gasped.

"Shh… be still, _bella mia. _Don't move…don't move…_" _

He slid his hands down each side of my body, the ice and fiery heat playing against each other. I moaned. Bending, he pressed his mouth to my leg. His tongue shot from his mouth, licking slowly up my skin to absorb the sweet liquid. I tried to keep still, but my body was on fire. There was something unbearably sweet to the gesture—sweet and manipulative. I groaned aloud when his tongue grazed my breast.

"Aro… oh, God, Aro, _please…"_

His cold chest heaved against mine. "You don't know…" he whispered. "You don't know how long I have wanted this…"

He caressed the tender skin, singing sweetly to me with his tongue. My body gave out again and again, and the tears rained down my face. He eased himself onto me, and I realized with slamming force that he also was unclothed. The blood from his incision stained both of us. It ran down his chest, disappearing in delicious depths past his sculpted waist. I wanted badly—oh, so badly—to touch him. He pressed on my arms while he kissed me, ignorant of my helplessness.

I squirmed. "Aro…"

"Yes, _picc-o-la…?" _

He drew out the words, trying to lose me in pleasure. I made a violent effort. "Aro, please move your arms. I can't—"

He obeyed immediately. He laid his head on my chest, peering slyly at me through midnight lashes.

I giggled; I couldn't help it. I told him to sit up, curious. He obeyed that, too. I had to stifle a groan as he reared above me, keeping my starving eyes away from his perfections. I felt my throat, knowing he watched me closely, and sighed when I realized the wound was not as deep as I'd thought it was. He'd merely cut just under the skin. Why it had been so painful, I didn't know. At any rate, my nerves were in a greater state of calm than they'd ever been. I latched onto his broad shoulders, gazing up at him with a confidence I could finally admit honestly.

"I love you," I said.

His eyes only burned, anxiously awaiting the pleasure he read in my thoughts. I did not disappoint him. I kissed his throat—such a sensitive spot for him—then turned my attention to the crimson stream dancing down his abdomen. It had partly dried, so I didn't stain my fingers as I curled them eagerly in the darkness near his core.

Aro seized me, driven to a frenzy by my touch. In doing so, my knee collided roughly against him.

An animal snarl broke from his lips, echoed by my own startled cry. His tongue found solace, forcing open my lips in an inferno of fire. The hollow ache in my stomach became physical pain. Stars taunted my eyes. I was crushed in his grip, gasping with pain and desire, but I didn't let go. I couldn't. His hands were steel on my waist, tightening whenever I moaned into his mouth. I thought he would never stop, but the skin of my throat soon followed. I tried to reach down again, but he stopped me, laughing to himself.

"Be careful, my dear," he breathed, almost menacingly. "You're taunting your own death."

I gasped at the darkness in his voice. "Since when do _you _govern _my _death?"

He smiled, as if it was a stupid question. Oh, he was so _wicked! _What had once frightened me now aroused me beyond thought, beyond comprehension.

Aro leaned down, licking the last few drops from my throat. His hair draped along my shoulders. I curled my fingers in its rich texture, pulling him closer than before. I felt a clasp—hard and smooth under my fingertips—and tore it free from the strands. The dark, glorious mass fell about his face. Ebony on snow-white. He was beautiful. He pressed down heavily on my body, and I suppressed a gasp of pain mixed with pleasure. I could feel his pelvis digging into my waist, and his lips bearing down on my arms and shoulders.

Just when I thought I could bear it no more, he slid away gently. His god-like form knelt near the edge of the bed, playing with the innocent whiteness of my legs. I breathed deeply, letting his sweet touch erase the memory of bruises scurrying across my skin…

Moments passed—each longer than the other. A soft tingle woke me from my dreamlike state. I touched my throat. My fingers came away sticky and hot with blood. I glanced down at Aro and my heart lurched. He was kissing the instep of my foot, thoroughly engrossed in his pleasure. I was too weak to call him, or to move. But I wanted his attention. I wanted him before me again, showing off his darkness.

"Aro," I whispered. It was hardly audible, but he lifted his head. I touched my throat, smearing my hand with even more blood. I held it up so he could see the firelight reflecting off it, then brought it slowly to my mouth. I hardly knew what I was doing. I only knew that his eyes were wide, darkening with shocked lust. I licked my fingers deliberately.

"_Ripetilo." _The word hissed from his lips. Somehow I understood. I licked them again, then slowly placed them in my mouth, closing my eyes.

"_Ah, voi bei ragazza bella," _he whispered. His fingers slid up my thigh, all hitherto pleasure forgotten. He snatched my wrist, yanking it none too gently away.

"You like that?" I asked. It was a distraction from the pressure his body was placing on me. Stone slid over fragile skin, hurting me a little.

"_Si," _he breathed. He seemed to have forgotten I didn't speak his language. It was intoxicating, the way his tongue darted from his mouth to lick the remaining blood from my fingers. _"Voi bei ragazza cattiva e piccola…"_

"Aro, I don't understand."

"_Bene," _he breathed darkly. _"E i dinnati vi ringrazio." _

There was a sharp pain at my core. He was singing softly in Italian, his hands molding to my weary body. The throbbing in my stomach was almost too much. _Speak English, _I wanted to say, but my lips didn't obey me. I gazed up at him with all the coolness of a practiced lover. _"L'italiano," _I sighed. _"L'italiano sempre…" _The words leapt to my mouth.

"_Principessa," _he cooed back, kissing me. The pain was growing sharper, heightening until I gasped out a cry. He fell forward, and I fell into darkness with him, the echoes of our screams swirling about in my mind. When I came to, he was reeling above me, kissing my damp flesh with sweet fervor.

"_Si sono bella," _he gasped, his voice so rough. He looked dazed, as if his love for me had drugged his senses. I twined my arms about his neck. I could still feel him, loving and hard inside me. "I love you," I said tenderly. And the pleasure repeated itself, much to the delight of my dark angel.

Aro curved a pale hand about my throat. He was covered in my blood, my sweat. "Come, Geneve," he whispered darkly. _"Vieni con me." _

"Let's not be too dramatic," I gasped out. He laughed. His mouth hovered at my throat, relishing the beat of my heart, but his hands caressed me gently, seductively, until I twisted under him in an agony of pleasure.

"Will you forgive me, my dear… my _precious?"_ he asked softly.

I was dizzy—so dizzy. "Yes, yes…"

"Then _forgive_ me," he hissed, and once again, his face embraced my neck.

My eyes snapped open, frozen in the onslaught of pain. I couldn't even move. Daggers? That was nothing. This was lightning striking my heart. This was firebrands held against my skin, searing through raw flesh. My fingers curled into the sheets, as if that would save me. Aro's body rubbed against mine, causing some abrasions, but I hardly noticed. My mouth was open wide. I couldn't remember how to scream.

I flinched violently. His teeth had torn muscle. "Dear God," I sobbed.

Upon hearing my voice, he stopped. "Oh, Geneve," he said, his eyes tinged with a pain similar to mine. _"Siete uccisione me. _You are killing me, _piccola." _

He held my face in his hands, my neck to weak to support itself. His eyes were dilated with a ravenous hunger, and they bored through my skin.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered.

I wanted to tell him the same; tell him I wasn't worth such words, but another jolt of pain stiffened me, and he lifted me in his arms to ease the shaking of my body.

"Calm yourself," he urged.

"I-I can't," I sobbed weakly. "It hurts."

"Pain is good, Geneve. Pain will give you new life. Drink..." He lifted his wrist to my lips. In my haze of pain, he had slashed his own skin. I tasted the vile liquid. Warm and sweet, yet bitter like salt. I fell back against his arm, and the redness dribbled over the edge of my mouth, staining the snow-white purity of my dress.

"Yes," he said tenderly. _"Lecchilo, la mia principessa. Bevalo tutto in su, come una buona ragazza. _Drink it all."

"Aro," I pointed feebly. "The dress… it's ruined."

"I don't care," he said calmly. "I will clean it myself once you are newborn."

"Help me, Aro."

"I'm right here, love."

I trembled again, writhing in pain. _"Help _me!"

He said nothing. A strange smile was fixed on his face. As I sobbed, he held me gently, like a child; rocking me back and forth in his marble arms. I drank from his arm, hardly knowing what I did, until the fire in my veins reached an unbearable peak.

"Make it stop," I sobbed into his chest. "Please, _please,_ Aro. Please, my love…"

He hummed to me. "Shh… shh…"

A minute passed—maybe two. Dear God, I was counting the seconds. I felt very warm, but that could have just been the blood. "Is it over yet?" I moaned.

"No, love. Not yet."

"Take it away… please, pleasetake it away…"

Aro ran his fingers over my face. He touched the scar from our first, lethal kiss. "Yes," he whispered intensely. "We will take _that _away, won't we? It will no longer serve as a reminder, a torment for me."

He caressed my lips, licking the remaining blood. If I'd had the will to move, I would have responded. Oh, how terribly I wanted to move, to _touch _him! But I was powerless… and not for the first time in my life. I could only surrender in my lover's arms, giving him what he had always wanted: my soul, and the power to shape my approaching existence in whichever way suited him.

"Sleep well, _cara mia," _he sang softly. "I will be waiting for you…"

* * *

><p><em>- <em>Dialo di più... <em>Ah, si… cosi bella, ma vittima <strong>Give me more... Ah, you are so beautiful, my victim<strong>___

_______- _Ripetilo _**Do it again **___

___**- **_Voi bei ragazza cattiva e piccola **You beautiful, wicked girl **____

____- Bene... _E i dinnati vi ringrazio **Good... And the damned thank you **_____

_____- _Lecchilo, la mia principessa. Bevalo tutto in su, come una buona ragazza **Lick it, my princess. Drink it all up, like a good girl **______


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 39: Angel **

"_There's no death to fear _

_And in my dreams, I feel immortal." _

_(Tarja Turunen) _

_In and out. In and out. Breathe in slowly, then out without screaming… _

The dream was dark—much darker than I was used to. This in itself was frightening, since the events of the last month had been fairly choked with terror and pain. I was running again through the mist, and the dead faces leered out at me. Sulpicia's joined them, and I screamed.

Voices whispered above my head. One was furious, silencing the others. The word "morphine" was mentioned. I cried out in relief, but the medication was never administered. I filtered in and out of consciousness, repeatedly begging for what never came. The furious voice lashed out again, and it grew deadly quiet. I was alone.

_In and out… in and out… _

I wasn't breathing anymore, but the rhythm of saying it soothed me. My voice gave out, and it went on in my head, back and forth. _In and out… _

Another long moment passed. I say "moment," because I had no conception of the time. It was all caught up in the pain, like everything else. So when it finally eased, I felt terrified. Was I dead? Had they found the much desired medicine?

I moved my arms, afraid at first to open my eyes. Since when did the dead move? But I felt like anything _but_ a corpse. My body felt buoyant, as if lifted by strings attached to the bed.

"Is anyone there?" I called out. No one answered. My eyes opened then, and I gasped in shock. Not because I was no longer lying in my room (the vivid brightness of the counsel room towered above me) but because… because…

"Eight," I whispered. I rose from the half-bed, half-stretcher, following the light blindly. My skin was incredibly smooth, and felt amazing against the silk nightdress I wore. "Nine, ten, eleven…"

I clapped my hands, unable to contain my delight. No less than twelve colors shimmered before me, quivering between the original six like mocking fairies. I could see them even better on my own skin. I had become a prism; a fantastic being of color and texture. I bounced a little, and gasped at the lightness with which I landed. I was a bubble!

I couldn't remember laughing so much before. I danced around the room, touching everything within my grasp. My giggle could have been an angel's. The light caught me each direction I turned. I longed for a mirror, though I knew without looking there were none to be had. I ran towards the bed, shouting with joy as I leapt over it at least fifteen feet in the air.

"Twelve," I sang over and over. I was in love with my own voice. "Twelve colors, and no one can see them." I spun around in dizzy circles. I was so blessed, so fortunate. Certainly, I had not foreseen such bliss. The angel spun, twirling me with her.

The angel that was _me. _

The door clicked. I turned. The sunbeams dancing off my skin made it difficult to see clearly, and I squinted against the rainbow glare at the dark shape. My nostrils flared. "Who's there?"

I recognized Renata's tiny gasp. "Hello, Geneve," she whispered. The door began to close. "I'll—I'll go find him."

"Where is he?"

"Feeding… he's feeding…"

She mumbled something else, then disappeared from the room. I'd already forgotten her, fascinated by the dazzling effect of sunlight on marble.  
><em>This is so much fun. <em>

The door opened again, this time with much more force. I was aware of its movement even before it knocked into the marble wall.

I whirled, my red hair swishing in my face. I felt like a panther, almost. Each sound was a potential threat until I grew used to my new body. My breathing quickened as a darker shape joined the shadows.

"Did you find him?" I asked nervously.

A rich voice answered. "Did I find who?"

Chills rippled up my new skin. I was still too blinded by the sight and sound to have full command of my senses. I shivered again as he came forward, sighing to himself.

"_Carissimo…" _

I couldn't move. He closed the door behind him. For a moment, there was utter silence. He just stood there, the faint outlines of his figure visible. My eyes cleared, and an explosive joy shot through my body. "Aro!"

"At last," he murmured. "I was worried, little one."

I rushed eagerly towards him, crashing haphazardly. I was utterly, deliciously out of control. "Aro!"

He didn't seem to mind. His eyes were warm as they looked at me. My fingers ran over his face… his hair… his strong, beautiful body. I couldn't take my eyes off him. I'd known this immortal for months, yet for the first time I was actually, truly _seeing _him. Touching him. Waiting for the voice that melted my heart, even though it had now frozen forever.

"Aro, Aro, Aro…"

He chuckled. "That is my name, yes. Careful, love—"

I froze. I had pressed a little too hard, apparently. "I am sorry."

He lifted my hands, kissing them. "It is nothing."

"Is it _really_ you?" I asked. "Is it really?"

He laughed at me. It was a distracted laugh, low and husky. I held off my desperation, aroused by the dancing of his fingers over my flesh. They rippled slowly up my neck. He touched my perfect mouth, fresh as winter, and a low breath escaped his throat. "Gone," he whispered. "At last. It can torment me no longer."

"I rather liked it," I teased, meaning the scar. "It reminded me of our early days together."

"I was cruel."

"You were _lost," _I corrected, encircling his neck with my arms. "Your powers had never failed you before. It made you angry, which was taken out against me, the only weak human available."

"Sweet Geneve," he chuckled. "Forever defending someone else. What do you think cruelty _is, _my pet?"

"What does it matter?" I nuzzled my face in his throat. "You love me now." His scent—it was beyond words. I did not need air, but my senses were greedy, sucking in every inch of his nearness…

"Ah… Geneve?"

"Mm-mm?"

A strange sound escaped his throat. "If you please," he said, strained.

Marble kissed my fingertips, the stone warm to my skin. I realized, with some embarrassment, that I had him pinned against the wall, my limbs entangled rather precariously around his own body.

"Sorry, sorry." I giggled. I couldn't help it. His hair hung a little in his face before he brushed it back carefully. He looked so… so…

"Oh, please," he said. "There must be another word, surely?"

"I thought you Italians were romantic."

He rolled his eyes, one of my favorite gestures. "Mm."

I bit my lip. "Well… if it's going to _hurt _you, then I can't possibly—"

He laughed, the sound fading to a sensual whisper. "On the contrary, my _love, _I want and adore your ministrations, but I think our guests may protest."

Guests? He grasped my shoulders, spinning me gently around. I'd been so lost in my dark angel that I'd once again been blinded by my surroundings. _Hopefully this won't turn into a habit… _

"It's Thena," he whispered in my ear. "She is curious, that's all. Smile at her."

_Who? _I smiled automatically. "Thena! How nice to see you."

The vampire's eyes narrowed. "Athenodora," she said, her voice constrained.

I dropped my outstretched hand, smile fading. I remembered her now, alright. She said nothing more. Her mate stepped towards me, his haughty manner equaling, if not surpassing hers.

"Geneve," he said. His voice reminded me of oil dripping over a fish's scales. He touched my hand briefly. "So nice to see you in this… _improved_ state."

"My brother," chortled Aro behind me. "Ever the charmer."

I wasn't so amused. "Sorry I can't say the same," I retorted, looking Caius in the face.

The ancient flashed a venomous look at me, but I wasn't afraid of him anymore. I watched them glide out of the room, neither touching the other, with Athenodora's slim arms pressed tightly to her sides. The sunlight filtered down on Aro and I, its glowing warmth renewing my spirits.

"In your _face!" _I crowed. I did a little dance, spinning in a semi-circle.

Turning back, I saw Aro press a hand to his mouth. "Are you _laughing, _my lord?" I demanded.

"Yes, and bless your pretty little head for letting me."

I ran towards him, letting him catch me. "You won't have to worry about this pretty little head anymore." I sighed into his neck, relieved. "I can take care of myself now."

His fingers stroked my hair. "But you will still let me care for you?"

"Of course."

* * *

><p>That day, and the days and nights following, were a dream. Surreal. My angel grew more beautiful by the hour, if that was possible. I assumed he felt the same for me. Every so often, his hand would reach for mine, pressing it to his warm lips with a dazed expression. I have expected him to kneel during those moments, kissing my feet with all the worshipfulness of an adoring lover. It touched me deeply.<p>

Not everything was sunshine and daisies, of course. There were still the rocky inclines to be gotten over.

"She has no talent!" Caius barked, during a council session a week later.

I smiled in amusement, perched behind Aro's chair, my hands gently kneading his shoulders. His brother was already inflamed by the fact I'd been _allowed _at their meetings. Much as he disliked me, I was now in his mind a wife, and the wives were to be kept from coven issues.

He was not the only one who laughed at this idea.

"Oh, hush, brother," Aro chortled, reaching up to stroke my hand. "Surely you know my views on such primitive ideas by now? Thena has always been welcome here. It is you who choose to keep her so thoroughly in the dark."

Caius' mouth lifted slightly. "Oh? And what of Sulpicia?"

Aro's hand tensed on mine. I resisted an urge to throw myself across his chair, ripping the satisfied smirk from his brother's face.

"That matter is dead," Aro said coldly. "And so is this enthralling discussion. Come, Geneve."

"No talent for love!" his brother shouted behind us. "You're becoming soft, old man!"

"Thank God," Aro muttered, pulling me along beside him.

"_Do _you think I have a talent?" I asked.

He kissed my fingers. "That, my darling, remains to be seen. It matters little to me, either way."

I adored his sentiment (followed as it was by a heated embrace), but I privately doubted the truth of it. True, I knew Aro would love me as I was. It was one of the qualities I loved most about him—a quality that most women spent their lives searching for. But I also knew of his love for power, and the ever-increasing talent he continued to gather about him.

But that was okay. I mean, it was exciting, wasn't it? Waiting in delicious suspense, yet knowing that whatever happened, whatever turned out… the most important person in the world to you would love you just the same.

Aro made love to me that night. Not once, but several times.

I guess that up until then I hadn't realized just how much he'd been protecting me (though I'd thought him delightfully rough at times). I was utterly clueless… until I sank into a splintered mess of wood and eiderdown feathers, the crimson shreds of blanket tangled like a snake around my hip. It was a dark heaven, and Aro was my destroying angel, wrenching open the sky until his fingers knotted in my hair, a beautiful groan tearing from those raw, perfect lips.


End file.
